


Memories of a Dead Prince

by FMB



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Death, Jack is dead, M/M, hinted blackice - Freeform, lol, prince AU, royal au, smut later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-03-25 07:33:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 53,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3802105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FMB/pseuds/FMB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The King and Queen had been murdered, and Prince Jackson kidnapped and later found dead in the arms of the suspect: Hiccup 'Horrendous' Haddock. The new King, Kozmotis Pitchiner, begins the trial to determine Haddock's innocence, and with Jack's staff in his possession, Pitch views the last week of his beloved Prince's life.</p><p>Updates Wednesdays</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The King sat at his throne, chin held high, back straight, and scythe in his hand. The crown atop his head had turned black the moment it touched his skin, but he didn't dwell on the meaning. Instead, he focused on the throne room doors as they were pushed open by two maids, allowing three men inside. Two of them marched proudly, and the third stumbled and dragged his feet, arms chained behind his back and shoulders hunched forward by the hands of the two guards at his sides. Their footsteps echoed throughout the otherwise silent chamber, only to end with a loud clatter of chain and limb when the man in the middle was thrown to the floor. He grunted in pain, then gasped when he was grabbed by his hair, forcing him upright so he was looking at the King.

Their eyes met, one filled with fury and the other with determination. Slowly, the King stood, his eyes never leaving the man's. With a wave of his hand, the Royal Guards that created a sort of barrier between the King and the prisoner stepped aside, allowing him to step away from his throne and approach the man on his knees. The scythe he carried tapped ominously against the stone floor, echoing through the room over the pained gasps and pants from the man on his knees, and when Pitch was in front of him, he stared down at him with hatred and rage, only to get an indifferent stare back.

“Hiccup 'Horrendous' Haddock III,” He began, his voice demanding attention as it reverberated through their ears. Every word he spoke was written down by a young, thin man towards the corner of the room, documenting this important time in history, “You have been accused of the murder of the King and Queen of the Kingdom Northern Mesa, and the kidnapping and murder of our dearest Prince and my half-brother, Jackson Overland North. How do you plea?”

Hiccup stared up at the King silently for a moment, letting his words be swallowed by the emptiness in the room, and when there were no sounds left aside from their breaths, Hiccup raised his head and plead, “Guilty.”

The Royal Guard erupted in anger, slamming the flats of their spears against the granite floor and stomping their feet, demanding Hiccup's head on a pike. The King lifted a hand, silencing them easily, and with a surprisingly calm voice he asked Hiccup, “Were you assisted by your fellow performers?”

Hiccup didn't have to think about that question as long as the previous one, and immediately shook his head no, “They had nothing to do with it. I acted alone.”

The room went quiet as the King thought about this. With a snap of his fingers, a door towards the side of the room was opened and a servant girl rushed out, carrying with her a wrapped parcel, which she handed to the King. She bowed her head and exited soon after, closing the door behind her almost silently.

Slowly, the King unwrapped the parcel, and when the cloth fell away, Hiccup immediately tried to stand, struggling against his chains to grab the staff in the King's hands.

“That's mine!” Hiccup yelled, struggling in the grip of the two guards at his sides, “Give it back!”

“This belonged to the late Prince Jackson,” The King hissed, a sick grin on his face from seeing Hiccup react so excitedly, “It was found in your possession, along with my half-brother's corpse.”

“Give it back!” Hiccup pleaded, ceasing his struggling and panting hard, “Please, it's mine! Give it back...”

The King regarded him for a moment, then looked over the staff fondly, stroking the silver that had been carved to mimic wood like he would a loved one's cheek. His thumb slid along the blue orb held in the crook of the staff, and it glowed dimly. His voice came again, but this time it was soft and morose, his sadness apparent in every word, “I'm not sure if you knew this... but this staff has magic embedded within it. The same magic my Prince held. This staff is capable of securing every memory of his, from birth to death...”

Cold, golden eyes rounded on Hiccup, who immediately started shaking his head no, “N-no, don't do this, p-please! I already told you I-I did it! Pitch, don't!”

“Do _not_ call me by that name!” He roared, slamming his scythe down on the granite floor. The room dimmed drastically, shadows crawling along the walls in menacing patterns that made even the Royal Guard shudder in their armor, “I am King Kozmotis Pitchiner-Black, and you will address me as such!”

“Just sentence me to death! I told you I'm guilty, _please_!” Hiccup begged, struggling against his confines again. Pitch took the silver staff and slammed it in front of Hiccup, halting his movements entirely. Pitch knelt before Hiccup, the staff between the two of them, and with a quick hand, he grabbed Hiccup by the jaw, forcing him to lock eyes with him.

The darkness seemed to shudder in anticipation, engulfing the room completely for only a moment before it created a pillar around Hiccup and Pitch, stretching up to the ceiling and blocking anyone from piercing the cocoon. Inside the pillar, Pitch used his magic to pierce Hiccup's thoughts, dragging out his memories from the past few weeks along with the memories embedded in the staff.

Laying them out in the open for the two of them to watch, Hiccup froze, the images in his mind as clear as if he were seeing them in reality. Pitch was witnessing the same image, and they both seemed to hold their breaths as they looked upon their Prince for what might be the last time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments!


	2. Jack's Escape

Jack felt free.

He jumped from building top to building top, cape fluttering in the wind and brown hair covered by a hood. He jumped down from one building, catching himself on the hanging sign and using that to give him momentum, throwing himself forward. Once his feet touched the ground, he took off running, laughter echoing through the empty streets. He heard shouts behind him, but he didn't care. He was so close to the gates, he could almost taste it. His chest heaved as he ran, his legs burning wonderfully, and he didn't slow down.

He heard the men behind him shouting for his capture, but Jack continued to evade and outrun them. He turned a corner, almost smacking straight into the side of a building, and continued to run forward. Looking over his shoulder, he watched as the Royal Guard stumbled over themselves, some falling from the sharp turn and others colliding with the building. The clanking of metal echoed through the night, making Jack laugh harder.

When he faced forward, though, he saw someone standing in the center of the gates, almost blending in with the darkness. The closer he came, the quicker he realized who, exactly, it was, and he slowed to a stop just before colliding into him. His breath was coming fast and his laughter had died, any hope for escape leaving him as golden eyes glowered down at him.

“Imagine my surprise when a guard enters my bedchambers late into the night only to tell me that my dearest half-brother was no longer in his bed,” He began, and Jack groaned, his shoulders slumping as he realized he was going to be scolded viciously for this, “Imagine my surprise to hear from the groundskeeper that the prince himself was spotted crawling out of his _window_ and onto the roof of a commoner's home!”

“ _Pitch_ , it's not that bad--” Jack tried to defend himself, but Pitch merely rounded on him, anger in his pinched face.

“Not that bad?! You could have fallen!” Pitch yelled, making Jack take a step back.

“I was fine!”

“You could have killed yourself!” Pitch continued, gesturing wildly into the air, exasperated.

“But I didn't!”

“You could have been seen!” Pitch hissed, as if this was the worst of the three. Jack rolled his eyes, groaning again.

“But I wasn't! It's the middle of the night, everyone's asleep!” Jack insisted, and Pitch didn't even grace that with a retort. Instead, he waved a hand at Jack to shut him up, recomposing himself and taking a few deep breaths.

“What do you even plan to gain from leaving Northern Mesa? All you need is right here,” Pitch said, grabbing the edge of his black satin cape and throwing it out to the side. It stuck to the air, as if someone were holding it there, and Pitch slowly walked around Jack as he continued, his cape expanding to accommodate the distance, “You have a roof over your head, food whenever you wish it, an army at your disposal, and a throne when the King passes! You have a future ahead of you, Jack, and you can't claim it from out there!”

He completed the circle around Jack, his cloak surrounding the both of them in darkness that the both of them ignored. Jack also had to ignore the fact that Pitch's chest was now bare, and had to bite back a retort about forgetting to dress himself properly in his rush to find Jack.

“I just want to explore a little! You can't expect me to know about my own kingdom if you don't let me out every once-in-a-while!” Jack pointed out, gesturing behind Pitch and his cloak, and towards the other side of the gates. Pitch rolled his eyes, bringing a hand up gracefully. The cloak grew, creating a dome of blackness over their heads, as if they were in a void.

“Jack, my dearest half-brother, everything you need is in here,” He said with a snap of his fingers, and the darkness dropped away like a cloth. Pitch caught the end of it before it all fell, and folded up his cape. With a gasp, Jack glanced around, finding himself back in his bedchambers with Pitch, who laid his folded cape over the back of one of the chairs. Jack groaned and threw himself back onto his bed, rolling onto his stomach and hiding his face in the pillows.

“You have books, paintings, poems, _everything_ you need to know more about the outside world!” Pitch explained, walking around the bed and seating himself beside his whining brother, running a hand over the top of his brown hair, “Besides, you can't run a castle from out there. You have people here who need you.”

“But I don't _want_ them to need me!” Jack stated, sitting up and looking at Pitch, “Every day my life is a routine! Eat, study, sit still and be silent, study more, eat something else, sleep, then start it all over again the next day! I learn about things that bore me, and the things I want to hear more of, you refuse to tell me! Outside is forbidden unless I'm with a horde of guards, and I can't see anything through the damn veil anyways!”

“The veil is to protect your identity,” Pitch huffed, tired of his brother's complaining, “And the guards are for your safety! How do you expect to accept your responsibilities when you become king when you know next to nothing about what it takes to rule? I teach you these things to make you a better king--”

“If you know so much, why don't _you_ take the throne instead?” Jack asked, gesturing to Pitch roughly, “You're the one teaching me all of this! You're the one who actually _likes_ studying and reading and doing nothing but mind-numbing work! You already walk around like you have your scythe up your backside, you're already set for the throne!”

Pitch was silent for a long moment, looking into Jack's muddy eyes, frowning when Jack looked serious. With a deep sigh, he turned his head away and stood, looking graceful in every step he took towards his cape. He placed his hands on the back of the chair, smoothing out the black cloth, and he murmured, “We both know why I cannot take the throne...”

“Maybe,” Jack agreed, sitting upright properly, placing his feet flat on the cold stone ground and watching Pitch's back tense, “But only one of us understands why...”

He watched Pitch for a while longer, wondering if the older man would explain it once and for all, but when Pitch didn't speak, he let out an annoyed huff and got to his feet. He approached Pitch and tugged on his arm until they were face-to-face once again. With a stubborn frown, Jack spoke again, “You keeping these things from me won't make me better or worse, Pitch. It'll only make me curious. And you hate it when I'm curious.”

“I know,” Pitch replied with a slight smirk, but his eyes were still heavy with uncertainty. Looking into Jack's determined gaze, though, he felt like the young Prince should be old enough to understand. “Let me at least make sure you're in bed, first. You're supposed to be asleep, anyways.”

“But you'll tell me?” Jack asked, squeezing Pitch's arm, and when Pitch gave him a confirming nod, he smiled. He quickly tugged off the cloak he wore, tossing it carelessly to the ground. Soon, his shirt and trousers were following after it, and he plucked his night gown from the bedpost, slipping that over himself and tightening the draw strings around the collar. Climbing into bed, he made himself comfortable under the sheets, then watched as Pitch bent down and picked up the clothes, folding them halfheartedly and setting them aside properly. When he was done, he sat on the bed by Jack's feet, running a hand up and down his bare arm, the cold air hitting him.

“The King may be my father, but my mother was a commoner, a chambermaid. She died in childbirth, so the King was forced to accept me as his responsibility...” Pitch explained slowly, and Jack rolled his eyes and hunched forward, frowning.

“I know _that_. You're illegitimate. But why is that important?” Jack pressed, and Pitch gave him an unamused look, raising a brow at his impatience. Still, he settled back and conceded to speed up his story, knowing Jack wasn't the kind to wait.

“The Royal Family thrives on their imagery, Jack. You are taught this from day one,” Pitch explained slowly, lifting his hands in the air and manipulating the shadows, creating a long, curving staff of darkness, but when he grasped it with both hands, the darkness dissipated, and was replaced instead with a familiar silver staff. It's entirety was carved and molded to mimic that of a tree, wood grain texture following the curving form. Where the staff curved around, nearly creating a complete circle, there rested a beautiful blue glass orb, sparkling in the moonlight leaking through the open window. Pitch ran his fingers over the orb, his brow furrowing, and Jack watched him closely, eyes flitting between his staff and Pitch's face.

“No one but the Royal Family bear such distinct traits like ethereal, snow-white hair, and sparkling, sharp sky blue eyes. Traits... we gain from this,” And he lifted the staff higher, though it did not do what it was meant to in the wrong hands. Pitch looked upon himself in the glass orb, seeing nothing changed in the warped image of himself, and with a deflated breath, he lowered it once more. Glancing towards his half-brother, he smirked, seeing Jack's eyes set sternly on the staff, his brows twitching. Holding out the staff, Jack let out a swift breath and took it from him, cradling it in his hands as if it were a cherished pet. As it switched from Pitch's grasp to Jack's, the magic within it unlocked, and the brown seemed to melt from Jack's hair and eyes. His hair grew paler, until it was a stark, bright white, even in the darkness of the night. It glowed like the moon in the distance, and when he lifted his gaze from the staff and to his older half-brother, his eyes were the bright sky blue of the Royal Family.

“But for a child who is only half royal, the magic from the staff will do nothing for them.” Pitch said, watching enviously as Jack lit up beautifully, knowing he would never feel such power surge through him. “For a child who is birthed from sin... the only magic he will bear is sin itself. He is shadow, he is a trick of the light. He is a bastard--”

“Pitch,” Jack interrupted him, setting his staff aside and reaching out for him instead, and when Pitch looked at him once more, his anger melted away. Jack's hair had turned muddy brown once more, and his eyes were dark and no longer rare. His cold hand was on Pitch's bare arm, but Pitch didn't mind. Jack's cold was different than that of a merciless world.

Pitch placed his own hand over Jack's patting it lightly in thanks, and he finished with a soft, “The throne cannot be filled by someone who does not bear the marks of the Royal Family. It would mark an end to the Royal Bloodline if I were to take the throne.”

With that done, Pitch stood, Jack's hand sliding from his arm as he went, and he took his cape from the back of the chair and threw it over his shoulders, fastening the ribbon that held it in place. “Get some rest now,” He decided to say, looking over at Jack with an even gaze, “You will need it now that you have spent so much time dawdling outside.”

“Yeah... okay.” Jack sighed, knowing he was going to be sleepy tomorrow, though he didn't regret it in the slightest. He only wished he had gotten outside of the kingdom. He settled back in his bed, tucking his staff under the blankets with him and hugging it to his chest, his hair bleaching white and his brown-turned-blue eyes slipping shut, “Good night, Pitch.”

“Good night,” Pitch replied, watching the transformation take place until it was complete, then he sighed and left Jack alone, pushing his envious thoughts down.

When the doors to his bedchambers opened and shut once more, Jack peeked an eye open, ensuring he was alone. With a sigh, he rolled over, facing his window instead, the staff still in his arms. He watched the sparse clouds outside his window, the moon glowing dimly, and the stars faintly behind the gray fog. He had been so close that time, but he didn't know what he was going for. He had no reason to leave the kingdom, he knew that... but that didn't mean he didn't want to. He knew he could do it, he just needed motivation.

With that decided, Jack decided to sleep on it. He would find his motivation when it came, certain that it would strike him hard when it did.

But what struck him that morning was not motivation, nor the desire to even be awake, but an old, grumpy chambermaid, who was tired of Jack's laziness, and had decided long ago that the only suitable way to wake him was by shoving him out of the bed. The floor woke him up faster than any gentle cooing or soft nudging could.

“Get up, My Prince, or I'll get Prince Pitchiner to do my job for me!” The hag howled, walking around to where Jack was tangled in his blankets on the floor and bending down awkwardly, helping him get up to his feet so she could dress him. Jack grumbled tiredly, half pouting and half dozing off again, but the rough yanks and tugs the woman performed in order to remove him of his bed clothes kept him from sleeping where he stood. Naked, the woman dragged him towards the window, forcing him to lean his head outside, and with a quick swing of a pitcher, she dumped cold water down his head, earning a startled shout that definitely woke up not only himself, but the rest of the castle as well.

“I should have you beheaded,” Jack grumbled, glaring daggers at the woman as she sat him down on the chair by the vanity, drying off his hair with a rough woolen towel, “I should have you strung up in the dungeons, never to see the light of day.”

“Grumpy this morning, aren't we?” She replied without much care. Her brow rose at Jack's ugly demeanor, and she tossed the towel over the back of the chair and lifted up a thick thistle brush, running it almost violently through his wet mop of hair, “Had a late night again, My Prince? I heard a lot about your nightly escapades, though they are hardly even that.”

“Foul witch!” Jack hissed, then was ultimately silenced when the woman shoved a thick slice of rye into his mouth, and suddenly his glare melted into one of tired delight as he began to much on it. The woman snickered at him, setting the brush down when she was done, then going to the closet to pull out the Prince's outfit for the day. As she decided, Jack finished his slice of rye, letting out a relieved groan.

“Ah, such a young and fair lady in my bedroom...” Jack called out when the woman turned around once more, holding in her arms Jack's outfit, “What brings you here so early?”

“You, My Prince, and your royal laziness. Don't flatter yourself now, boy.” She grinned, knowing the boy well enough to feed away his morning temper, and she shoved another piece of rye between his teeth. Jack's eyes slipped shut as he munched, lifting his arms so she could pull his clothes on piece by piece.

When he was dressed and satiated, he looked at himself in the vanity, admiring the light, pure white clothes he wore, lined with icy blue trim. Careful hints of gold accentuated the colors, but didn't over power them, and since he wouldn't be leaving the castle that day, he didn't need to wear his public veil.

“Beautiful again, today,” Jack spoke up, admiring his reflection, but his chambermaid merely laughed as she organized his bed.

“No need for the flattery, My Prince, I know well enough of my beauty.” She joked, getting a wide grin from the boy she had just battled into a good mood.

“Ah, but what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't tell the truth every once in a while?” He asked, turning to face her head on, but before they could continue on with this banter, the door swung open, revealing a steely looking Pitch, dressed in regal black clothes lined with thick fur and accented with silver. His hair was carefully brushed back, like always, showing off his sharp features, and his skin looked much grayer in the ensemble, though he didn't care. He took one look over Jack, and when he found him acceptable, he addressed his chambermaid with a curt nod.

“Awake and dressed on time as usual,” He observed kindly, “You truly are a woman of great power to fulfill such an arduous task.”

Jack rolled his eyes at Pitch's dry humor, but the chambermaid only smiled and bowed her head, knowing Pitch was not the man to joke with. Unlike young Jack, Pitch's humor came from snide remarks and cruel pranks, typically directed towards his younger half-brother, though those working in the castle were known to end up victims every rare occasion. Unlike Jack's temper, which faded as his stomach filled, Pitch always seemed to be on the tipping point between pleased and pissed off, and no one dared to test it aside from Jack.

Luckily, Jack was probably the only person in the castle whom Pitch could not condemn to death.

“Come,” Pitch addressed Jack now, extending his arm to him, “We have much to learn, today.”

“As with every day,” Jack sighed, slumping his shoulders and stomping towards his brother, though when he was in reach, Pitch slapped at his back and poked at his sides until Jack's posture was proper once more.

“If you only paid attention when I lectured and bothered to actually care about the lesson, you would enjoy yourself!” Pitch claimed, placing an arm around Jack's shoulders, properly leading him through the castle and towards the war room, where the largest map of the world lay spread out on the Conference Table.

“How am I to be excited about things I've never seen before?” Jack complained, taking his usual seat at the far end of the table and slouching until Pitch was behind him, pushing at his joints until he sat upright.

“You _will_ see them, Jack. One day, when you are king.” Pitch reassured him, and when he walked away from the Prince and towards the other end of the table, Jack slouched again, putting his elbows on the wooden table top and pouting. Pitch paused his pacing, then picked up the nearest book and threw it down on the table, startling the Prince, “And you will _never_ be king if you slouch and pout like a child!”

Jack groaned loudly, throwing his head back against the chair, but when Pitch began to advance towards him once more, Jack sat up straight and proper, folding his hands politely on his lap and not on the table. Pitch paused his advancement, narrowing his eyes at the boy, then he sighed and picked up the book he threw down, opening it to where they left off last. As he began to read the next common strategy in war, he turned his back to Jack, who merely stuck his tongue out at the pacing man in silent retaliation. After, he crossed his arms on the table and dropped his head down, resting his chin on them and closing his eyes. He could have nodded off right then, what with Pitch's monotone voice soothing him like a boring lullaby, and nearly ten minutes later, he was slipping into unconsciousness. He didn't have to worry about being asleep for too long, however, since he was jolted awake when the hard cover of the book came down on the back of his head.

With a yelp, he shot upright, clutching at his head in pain and glaring at Pitch, who only glared back. In a cruel tone, Pitch leaned closer and hissed out, “It is _not_ advised that you fall asleep when attacking your enemy.”

With a huff, Jack sat up again, letting his arms rest on the armrests of his chair, and he leaned back against the wooden seat as Pitch resumed his lecture. He replied under his breath with an equally moody, “We wouldn't need to attack if we had you _lecturing_ at them.”

“...But the best strategy in such a situ—Excuse me?” Pitch interrupted himself, turning to face Jack once again as he shut the book, holding it in one hand.

“You heard me, _teacher_.” Jack bit out, and Pitch looked like he wanted to tear into the Prince with his own nails. He stuttered angrily for a moment, trying to decide what to say, and just when Jack thought he was going to burst and start yelling at him, Pitch took a deep breath, set the book down, and swallowed down his anger—something that made him all that much more terrifying in Jack's opinion.

“Perhaps... a more engaging lesson is due.” He said in a level tone, tilting his chin up elegantly, and he walked around Jack's chair, letting his hand graze across his back, from shoulder to shoulder. He squeezed his fingers down, then let go and instead grabbed the back of his shirt, tugging him out of his seat and onto his feet. “I hope you've been practicing, Jack.”

Jack blanched for a moment, following after Pitch, who lead the way to the veranda,and he rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly before replying, “Well... yes _and_ no.”

“How is it 'and'?” Pitch inquired, glancing over his shoulder for a moment before looking ahead once more, tugging at his cape to keep it from snagging. Jack had to pick up the pace in order to keep up with his strides.

“Well, I mean, I've watched _other_ people do it. _That_ counts, right?” Jack asked, and Pitch had to stop where he stood as he scoffed, and he rubbed at his temple in exhaustion.

“You don't learn to play the lute by watching _other_ people do it, Jack! This is why we have—ugh, you just don't understand...” Pitch complained, completely exasperated, and he walked on with a shake of his head, Jack tailing after him.

“What I don't understand is why you want me to play the lute in the first place!” Jack explained, still struggling to keep up, “I mean... why does a King have to play an instrument? Doesn't he pay other people to do that for him?”

“It builds character. It's a hobby, Jack! And there's nothing more appealing to future wives than a man who is well-versed in a _multitude_ of skills! Why do you think our Father bothers to write poetry?” Pitch questioned him, using his hands to accentuate his words.

“I wouldn't know, to please Mom, I guess?” Jack answered honestly, though Pitch only huffed in annoyance at his incompetence. Soon, they were outside the castle and underneath the veranda, and Pitch plucked the lute from the wooden bench, handing it to Jack.

“We are not leaving until you play a full song, without error. Weiss' _Sonata No.40 in C-Major_ should do.” Pitch instructed, and Jack's eyes bugged for a moment.

“What?! That song is nearly forty minutes long! My fingers will bleed!” He complained, plopping down on the wooden bench, earning him yet another glare until he sat upright once more, “Can't you choose something shorter? _Courante_ maybe?”

“ _Courante_ will not give you the practice you have put off, Jack. The more time you waste complaining, the longer we will be here.” Pitch huffed, pacing back and forth in front of him with his arms crossed until the young Prince gave up with a huff, and reluctantly begun the song.

Pitch nitpicked at every mistake, interrupting Jack whenever he heard a misplaced note or a strum went too long. Thankfully, he didn't force Jack to start over from the beginning, merely the beginning of that line. Almost two hours later, Jack finished the song with a lilting strum, and right when the note ended, Pitch bobbed his head and said, “Good job, Jack. I was almost able to tell it was a legitimate song.”

Jack glared at Pitch's insult, and he lifted the lute up to fake the action of smashing it over his head, but Pitch was unimpressed and only turned away, waving for Jack to follow.

“Come, come... it's time for your next lesson.” Pitch sighed, walking away before he was even sure Jack was following, but he knew the other would rush to catch up. He nearly reached the castle when he heard the pattering of leather shoes behind him, and he grinned to himself before he placed a stern look on his face. Jack nearly held a new record, being stubborn for so long. Yet, he knew the young Prince would always give in.

They made their way back into the castle, through the halls, and into the throne room, where Jack was forced to stand in front of the King's throne while Pitch walked the walls of the room.

“...which is why I have decided—as King—“ Jack recited, practicing a speech his own Father had give years before he had been born, but as always, Pitch interrupted him with a much stronger and more demanding voice.

“Power, Jack! You must be strong not only with your posture, but your voice! You are at war right now, war with the people! You must make them either fear or adore you, and you royals _love_ adoration!” He commanded, making Jack roll his eyes with a huff.

“I'm using power!” Jack complained, squeezing his hands into fists as he watched Pitch pace, “Besides, it's hard to stay consistent when all I can hear are my own echoes!”

“Then ignore them! Be louder than them! You should enjoy this lesson, Jack. This is the only time you can raise your voice!” Pitch prodded, and Jack scoffed and shook his head, but he smiled a little and stood up a bit straighter, sucking in a deep breath and trying again.

Pitch made his rounds through the room, and when he got back to Jack's side, he corrected his posture silently, then resumed his pacing. Jack finished the speech calmly, then turned to look at Pitch for his reaction.

Pitch stayed where he stood, straightening out his cape as he looked over Jack, and when the tension started getting to the Prince, he allowed him a light nod of the head, and Jack broke out into an excited smile.

“But you still need a lot more practice, Jack. Don't let it get to your head.” Pitch warned, but Jack wasn't listening. He was too busy taunting Pitch with his speaking skills, laughing victoriously, as if this were some great feat. Pitch couldn't help but to laugh along, and he silenced Jack's victory with a reminder that they were still going to be having lessons.

The both of them fell quiet, however, when the door to the throne room opened, and in came a young servant boy.

“My Princes, er—sorry to interrupt, but food is being served now in your rooms.” He said, his voice meek and shy. Pitch huffed softly, then gestured to the young boy before he looked at Jack expectantly. Jack took a moment to understand what Pitch wanted, then he stood at attention and cleared his throat a few times, jutting his nose into the air like Pitch did when he was being pretentious.

“Thank you, young lad. You are... dismissed?” Jack petered off, looking at Pitch curiously, which made the man roll his eyes.

“We'll eat immediately.” Pitch told the boy, who then nodded and ran off, his duties finished. With him gone, Pitch turned to look at Jack and rose a brow.

“And you need to learn to treat commoners properly.” Pitch reprimanded him, bringing a hand up and resting it on Jack's shoulder, leading him out of the throne room and towards their bedrooms, “They are below you, Jack. They all are. Remember that.”

“That doesn't seem like a good thing to remember,” Jack sighed, crossing his arms, “Aren't we supposed to make them happy, anyways?”

Pitch sighed at that, dropping his hand from Jack's shoulder, though they walked on, and he shook his head, “Jack... you're supposed to worry about keeping them alive, and retaining your land. As a King, your priority is to protect the people and what you own. Their happiness is a given.”

When Jack didn't respond, Pitch looked down at him and rose a brow, only stopping when they were outside of Jack's room door. Jack was about to open it and leave, but Pitch stopped him with a call of his name.

“Do you understand, Jack?” He asked again, frowning still. Jack peeked up at him, nervous, but when he looked away again, he did so with a nod.

“I understand.” He relented, and he heard Pitch sigh with relief.

“Good. It's important that you do.” He said kindly, bringing a hand up to card through Jack's hair, “Eat up, now. I'll come back in a couple of hours to collect you from your room. We still have our sparring lesson, after all.”

“Sparring?” Jack gasped, looking up at Pitch with fearful eyes, though they went unnoticed by the leaving Prince.

“Yes, and don't think you can hide from me. I always find you.” He taunted with a smile, much too kind for the topic they were discussing. Jack knew it was impossible to hide from Pitch, of course, but that didn't stop him from trying. He ate what he dared to test his stomach with, then bolted from his bedchambers and tucked himself away in the stable, finding the stall holding his personal horse, Ivory, a gorgeous, stark white Fjord horse, whose mane was braided into fanciful arches, shiny even in the dark stall. She snorted and fidgeted a little when Jack threw himself into the stall, uncertain of what he was doing in there, but when he smiled at her and whispered to her, she calmed down easily, and merely went back to napping.

Jack made himself comfortable in the corner, sitting down when he made sure there were no leavings anywhere near him, and he thought it smart to catch a quick nap himself. He was absolutely certain it would at least take Pitch some time before he found him, and Jack much preferred sleep over sparring.

But his nap was cut short, and he jumped to his feet when the stall gate swung open, an ominous figure standing in front of him and Ivory.

“Already?!” Jack gasped, but he could only scream after when he saw the familiar glint of Pitch's scythe, especially when the man brought it above his head.

“This isn't fair!” Jack shouted, dodging to the other side of the stall when Pitch brought the scythe down. Ivory whinnied in surprise, shaking her head and stomping her hooves, but Pitch paid her no mind. “I don't even have a weapon!”

“A good tactician wouldn't need one from the start!” Pitch pointed out, and Jack huffed, then ducked when the scythe swung at him again, crashing into the wood instead, “They would figure out how to get the upper hand!”

“I'm in a stall! There is no upper hand!” Jack argued, trying to calm Ivory while still dodging Pitch's attacks, but then an idea hatched in his mind. He ducked when Pitch swung at him again, making sure the scythe sunk into the wood behind him, and while Pitch struggled to tug it out from the grain, Jack urged Ivory out of the stall, effectively shoving Pitch out of the way, and he hopped onto her back, struggling for a moment and cringing when he realized there was no saddle, so he had to cling to her neck.

Ivory huffed in despair, but ran forward anyways, taking Jack away from the danger that was Pitch and out into the courtyard, where a group of baffled servants and maids halted and stared, unsure what to make of this sudden appearance. Jack hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out where they should run, but he was running out of time.

“Jack!” Pitch shouted from the stalls, and was soon running after him, his scythe in his hands.

“Crap! Go!” Jack yelped at Ivory, kicking her side with his heel anxiously to spur her into a run in any direction. Ivory suddenly leapt into the air, climbing the short staircase that lead to inside the castle, and was soon running rampant inside the castle walls, dodging pillars and people alike. Jack's voice was caught in his throat, and he clung to his horse fearfully, unsure if it had been such a bright idea to get on her back in the first place.

Pitch hesitated behind them, knowing well that the King and Queen would reprimand them greatly if word got to them of their escapades, but mostly concerned about the fact that Jack was actually getting away from one of their lessons. He couldn't lose to the runt yet!

With a decisive grin, Pitch threw his cloak around himself, using the darkness to warp through the castle, reappearing in the hall, only ten yards from Jack. The young Prince yelped when he saw Pitch materialize in front of him, and he grabbed at Ivory's mane and tugged, pulling her to a skidding stop. It would have worked much better if they had been running on dirt, but the stone floor proved slippery, and before Jack knew it, he and the horse were falling over, the horse shouting with a whinny and Jack in pain.

“Jack!” Pitch gasped, throwing his scythe to the ground and running towards the mound of horse and boy. He dropped to his knees beside them, shoving the horse off with a strong push, then wrapping his arms around Jack's torso and pulling the gasping teen into his lap. Jack's eyes darted around for a second, wide and terrified, and he quickly patted himself down and wiggled his limbs around before he realized he was fine.

He slumped against Pitch's torso, letting the older man hold him, and while Pitch squeezed him close and looked over him for injuries, Jack began to laugh. He fell into hysteria soon enough, frightened tears running down his cheeks, but laughter still bubbling from his throat, and he clung to Pitch for a while longer before he pulled away, still laughing.

“I nearly died!” He gasped, his lips twitching, caught between wanting to smile and wanting to grimace in pain, and Pitch only looked more worried before he felt something dull jab against his stomach.

With a surprised grunt, Pitch looked down, his eyes widening when he saw Jack's sheathed knife pressing against his stomach, and Jack laughed louder. Pitch stared at the 'weapon' with raised brows, completely at a loss for words, and when he looked up at Jack again, the young Prince merely laughed out, “I won! I actually won!”

Now angry, Pitch huffed and shoved Jack off of his lap, making the boy gasp and whimper in pain, his body sure to bruise after taking such a fall, but he only kept laughing when Pitch got to his feet, his brows now pinched together in embarrassment.

“That doesn't count!” He huffed, bending down to pull Jack to his feet, then looking over at the horse, who was currently pushing herself upright, shaking her head, “I was worried about you. The lesson ended when you fell.”

“A good tactician gains the upper hand, you said! I used your worry for me to my advantage!” Jack argued, clutching at his stomach which was beginning to hurt from the laughing, “Besides, you would have done the same thing! Just admit it, I won!”

Pitch scoffed and shook his head, annoyed, and he went to Ivory and settled her down with a few gentle strokes to her nuzzle, glaring at the ground.

“Fine.” He bit out, glaring at Jack instead, “You won. And guess what you win?”

“The rest of the day off?” Jack guessed, and excited glint in his eye, but then he frowned when Pitch gestured to Ivory.

“You win the _privilege_ of taking Ivory back to her stable, and formally apologizing to all those that you have scared today. _Then_ you can have the rest of the day off.” Pitch explained, and Jack deflated even more and groaned in annoyance, but he took it without complaint. Putting a hand on Ivory's neck, he lead her out of the castle and down the short staircase, then back into the stable. He fed her and made sure she wasn't injured, then spent most of the rest of the afternoon apologizing to anyone he recognized, and even a few he didn't.

He was about to skip his way upstairs to tell Pitch he finished when he was caught by the same servant boy from before, telling him that his dinner was ready. He paused for a moment, looking at the boy curiously, then he took a deep breath and puffed up his chest, clasping his hands behind his back and jutting his chin into the air.

“I shall eat it immediately.” He said, doing his best to mock Pitch from before, and he earned a rather loud snort from the servant boy, who quickly tried to smother it with his hands. The boy looked up at Jack in fear, but Jack only laughed as well and relaxed, saying calmly, “Hey, don't worry, it was a joke. It was supposed to be funny.”

The servant looked at him for a bit longer, still worried, and he cleared his throat and bowed low to him, then scurried off without another word. Jack gasped when he ran, then sighed and frowned, only turning away when the servant ducked behind the bend of the hall. He shuffled towards his bedroom, pouting quietly, and when he got inside and saw the food on the table, he sighed again and slunk down into the chair, crossing his arms.

“Stupid joke...” He reprimanded himself, glaring at the banquet in front of him. He didn't understand why the always put so much food out before him, he never finished it all. He wondered if they saved the leftovers or destroyed them, but either way, it made his stomach churn in discomfort. He didn't know why, exactly, but he hated this kind of life. Everything was given to him as soon as he asked for it—there was no begging or trying or earning. Every day was the same, though the bit with the horse was something at least slightly memorable.

He chuckled to himself softly when he recalled it, knowing full well that he'd be aching in the morning, but he didn't care so much. Instead of worrying about it, he got to his feet and went over to his windowsill, sitting in the chair set beside it and looking out. The sun had gone down nearly an hour ago, and all that was left in the sky was a faint shadow of the moon and the last breaths of purple-red light slowly disappearing behind the mountains in the distance. Stars would soon start to twinkle to life, and Jack looked forward to watching their reveal. He loved the stars dearly, almost as much as Pitch loved tutoring him, but he never had a lesson in astrology. He knew Pitch knew about it, but it mustn't have been important enough to the man to bother teaching the future King.

Jack felt relaxed as he watched the sky change, but soon enough, he spotted something climbing into the sky in the distance. Jack frowned when he saw it, then narrowed his eyes at it, recognizing it as a cloud of smoke from a camp fire. It was quite a distance away, well outside the Castle Town limits, but close enough to be reachable within the same day. After a half hour, the smoke still climbing above the trees, music began to play in the distance, and he could hear the faint chattering of excited townspeople. He leaned forward a bit, looking out the window in hopes to find out what was going on, but he was much too far away and much too high up to know.

That was when the wind picked up suddenly, blowing Jack's shutters against the stone wall, and mussing his hair. Jack leaned back with a gasp, holding up a hand to try and block the strong gust, but instead of wind slipping through his fingers, a piece of parchment did, and smacked him right in the face.

With a huff, Jack tore the parchment from his face, and was about to throw it away when a drawing on it caught his eye. Settling down, Jack held the parchment close to read it, and what was on it made his heart leap.

Written in gorgeous scripture, the parchment read:

_COME ONE COME ALL_

_TO THE_

_MYSTICAL MONSTER MENAGERIE_

_WITH LEGENDARY CREATURES_

_TERRIFYING STUNTS_

_AND_

_AMAZING, TALENTED PERFORMERS_

_WITNESS THE REMARKABLE_

_DRAGON TRAMER_

_ONE NIGHT ONLY_

Jack's brow furrowed as he read the parchment over again, and when he was certain of the words, he knew this was what he had been waiting for. This was the motivation he needed in order to successfully escape the Castle Grounds.

He heard the sound of one of the servants walking around outside his room, so Jack rushed to his bed and hid the parchment under his pillow. Seconds later, the door opened, and the same woman who dressed him in the morning walked in, smiling at the Prince.

“Evening, My Prince,” she said kindly, but her smile dropped when she saw his table, still filled with food, “Was the food distasteful?”

“No, no, I just... lack an appetite.” Jack said quickly, blushing a little, “I'm just really tired right now... but if you're hungry—“

“Oh, hush now, I wouldn't dare eat your food. I'll have someone come in and clean up your table when you're asleep, don't worry.” She said quickly, waving his words away, and she went to his side and pulling him towards the dresser, “Now, let's get you in your pyjamas.”

With a sigh, Jack complied, letting her undress and redress him, then help him into bed when he was ready for sleep.

“Good night, My Prince,” She said sweetly, tucking him in with a smile, “See you in the morning.”

“Goodnight,” He replied softly, watching her walk around his bed, then out into the hallway. He sighed when he was alone again, then pulled the parchment out from under his pillow, looking over it once more.

A dragon tamer.... he had never seen a dragon before. He had only heard tales and legends from Pitch, but he always wondered what they were like... If he made it to the circus, he would finally see all he could wish to see. He would finally have something memorable, something he _earned_.

He was going to go tomorrow night. He wouldn't be able to keep living unless he went.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously I'm starved for comments please gimme some comments


	3. The Visitors (Jack's Escape Pt. 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day early cause i have an essay to write. Please don't forget to leave comments!

“...And therefore, it is I who decided—“

“ _Jack!”_ Pitch interrupted, stopping where he had been pacing, beside the door to the throne room, “Where is the power? The emotion? You are to be stirring your audience to tears in a speech like this!”

Jack sighed, slumping his shoulders and rubbing at his temples, irritated and tired, and he shook his head. “Sorry...” He apologized, knowing he hadn't been doing well all day, “My mind is elsewhere.”

“Well bring it back here,” Pitch huffed, crossing the room with long strides, and when he was in front of Jack, he put his hands on his shoulders and forced him to stand upright, “You must focus on your voice, Jack. When you are King, you cannot risk having your mind 'elsewhere'. You must be here in your entirety for your people...”

Jack looked up at Pitch, still frowning, and he asked, “How can I do that if the only person here is you? You're not my people, you're my brother.”

“ _Half._ ” Pitch corrected him in a cold tone, squinting at the Prince, then he let go of his shoulders and instead gripped his chin, pulling it up a little, making him raise his head, “And I know I don't allow this other times, but when we do this, you must pretend you are talking to your people. You have to look out into the empty room not with your eyes, but your imagination—and I know you have quite a powerful one.”

Jack gave him a skeptical look, making Pitch smirk and move to stand behind him, saying softly, “Here,” as he covered Jack's eyes with his hands. Jack stiffened up a little, unsure if Pitch was going to use his magic to manipulate Jack's mind, but when all he saw was blackness he relaxed a little. Pitch leaned closer to him, whispering to him, “Now fill your mind's eye with the throne room. The marble pillars, the polished stone floors, the grey-tinted cobblestone walls holding up the dome ceiling. Six torches on the two longest walls, four of them lit in total. A set of double-doors, crafted from the strongest wood, as old as the kingdom itself. There are only two seats behind you, one for yourself, one for your future Queen. The hall is filled with your people, panicked and outraged. They voice their fear, they hide it in anger, and they are here for your head. You must quell them. You must reassure them. You must take your place as their King.”

And it was as if Pitch had pressed a button, Jack's mind filled with the imagery. The doors were wide open, held there with the sheer mass of people before him. His guards struggled to keep them at bay without hurting them, and the room was filled with the smoke of their torches. They were shouting at him, yelling obscenities, bearing makeshift knives and swords, even sharpen planks of wood for some, and Jack felt his heart race in uncertainty.

But then he imagined himself, older, wiser, in control. His fur-lined cape, white as the snow that graced the mountaintops, turned into the royal blue cloak, draping elegantly down his arms, pooling around his feet like the ripples of ocean waves. His light blue vest, lined with silver buttons and trimming, overlaying a sheer white long-sleeved tunic, transformed into an elegant, form-fitting ivory tunic, ending just above the middle of his thighs. His black trousers faded to light grey, and his soft slippers turned into a pair of leather boots, a stark black against the rest of his ensemble. He could feel the weight of the crown on his head, demanding just as much respect as he deserved. His fist tightened around his staff, and he could imagine him slamming the hard end of it on the stone floor, silencing his people, and attaining their complete attention.

“Silence!” He shouted, his voice strong and thick in his chest, and he looked down at the people, displeased and annoyed, “Be still, now!”

Pitch stepped away from Jack, bringing a hand to his own lips as he watched the Prince, his eyes still closed. He held out his hand as if he were holding his staff, and his face pinched together in sudden urgent dissatisfaction. When he spoke, his voice was full of control, echoing off the walls thrice before it faded completely.

“You have heard rumors float around the town about our borders being crossed... about villages and farms being pillaged and razed... you have heard rumors of our enemies marching to this very town in armies, breaching a thousand men per fold! And as King, I will give you my word...” Jack spoke, his eyes still closed and his face scrunched, and Pitch chuckled under his breath. He was following their father's speech perfectly, and he turned away from Jack to walk back to where he had been pacing, expecting him to go on about how there was no truth to these rumors, and that he had everything handled.

“These rumors... Are true.” Jack spoke, and Pitch froze. He turned back to Jack, scowling.

“Jack!” He growled, snapping the Prince out of his imagination, “What do you think you're doing?!”

Jack took a minute to reply, and when he did, he sounded much weaker than before, back to his usual self, “I'm... calming the people?” He guessed, making a sweeping motion to the empty throne room.

“Do you really think telling them that our Kingdom had been breached by the enemy will calm them?!” Pitch questioned him, shaking his head in disbelief, “You have to _lie!”_

“But that's wrong!” Jack refused, shaking his head, “I have a responsibility to my people! I have to tell them the truth—“

“No, I told you to make them calm!” Pitch argued, “I told you to make them happy. Their ignorance is the only thing that will keep them happy!”

“But Pitch—“ Jack tried to speak, but the throne room doors swung open, silencing the both of them. The young servant boy from the day before ran in, and he handed Pitch a letter, holding it up to him with both hands and bowing his head.

“A message from the King,” He said, keeping his head bowed, even when Pitch took the folded parchment, “He is requesting your presence in his War Room. Both you and Prince Jack.”

Pitch hummed softly as he unfolded the parchment, reading it over himself, then he clicked his tongue and looked up at Jack, gesturing him to follow, “Come along, Jack. It seems he wants us immediately.”

“Does... this mean lessons are over?” Jack asked, a small smile coming to his face as he hopped down the four steps and running across the room to Pitch's side, though the older man only frowned at him.

“Not at all. Merely delayed.” He said, then looked at the servant boy, still bowing, and he grimaced and waved a hand at him, “Erm... you are dismissed.” and the servant boy nodded his head, then took off running down the hall again, disappearing as quickly as he appeared. Pitch handed Jack the parchment, allowing him to read the brief note his father had written them:

_My Sons,_

_The Queen and I have interesting news we must share._

_Please meet us in the War Room immediately, for a private discussion._

_You may resume your lessons afterward._

 

_King Nicholas North Frost_

 

Jack hummed and refolded the paper, then followed Pitch out of the throne room and down the halls, asking the older man, “What do you think he wants to talk to us about?”

“God if I know,” Pitch replied coldly, always in a bad mood when he had to be in the same room as the Queen, “If _she's_ there, it must be something that affects all of us, though.”

Jack was silent for a bit, looking at his older brother with a frown, and when they neared the throne room, Jack reached out and grabbed Pitch's wrist, stalling him for a moment. Pitch looked at him with a glare, already temperamental, and Jack hesitated a bit before saying, “If you wanna go run, I can cover for you...”

Pitch's glare relaxed a bit, then he sighed and rolled his eyes, bringing a hand up and carding his fingers through his hair, “Jack... don't be ridiculous. Everything will be fine.” and he forced a smile to prove it, though he had to lift Jack's head by his chin so the Prince could see it, “Thank you for the sentiment, though. I appreciate it. You're still not getting out of your lessons, though.”

At that, Jack pouted, torn between playfully complaining, and truthfully telling Pitch that he wasn't even thinking of that, but he didn't have the time to decide, since Pitch put his hand on Jack's back and pushed him forward, entering the War Room with him in front. Once inside, they came face-to-face with the King and Queen, and the King stood with a smile.

“Wonderful timing!” He said happily, gesturing them to come closer and sit at the table with them, “That servant boy really does have a pair of feet on him, doesn't he?”

“He was timely,” Pitch agreed lightly, letting Jack go forward and take the seat next to the Queen, who smiled at her son and cooed at him, brushing her fingers through his hair and earning a wide grin. Pitch closed the door and locked it, then went to the King's side, across from Jack. As he sat, he asked, “Now what have you called us for? Nothing bad I hope.”

“Oh, be respectful, won't you?” The Queen scolded, shooting a sharp glare towards the Bastard Child of the King, and Pitch only glared back, “Barely a second into the room and you're already complaining.”

“Mom—“ Jack tried to quell her, but she only shushed him and leaned forward, opening her mouth to dish out more verbal punishment to the elder Prince, but the King cleared his throat loudly, frowning at his wife.

“My Dear, please. He has the right to be upset, we _did_ interrupt Jack's lessons.” He pointed out, and at the mention of Jack's expense, the Queen relaxed a bit and sighed, nodding her head for her husband to continue. The King looked between his sons, then smiled and said, “Well, we have just been notified that we are to be expecting guests. Very important guests.”

“Royal?” Jack guessed, and the King nodded with a smile.

“In fact, Pitch, you might remember them.” He added, looking to his oldest son kindly, “Though you were only a boy when they first came by, I'm sure you wouldn't forget Bunnymund.”

“Ah,” Pitch sighed, bringing a hand up to rub his temples, “I certainly do remember His Majesty... Though I expect him to be arriving alone?”

“Not at all!” The King corrected, getting a moderately interested look from Pitch, “In fact, it seems he had two children to his name, both born before the illness had taken his wife. He will be arriving with Prince and Princess, though they are still rather young.”

“They must be ten, at the youngest,” Pitch pointed out, getting a nod and a shrug from his father, “I haven't heard of them before.”

“Yes, well, neither have we. But, we would not turn down our guest, no matter how many children he decided to bring with him.” The King mentioned, leaning back in his seat and brushing a hand over his greying beard, reaching the middle of his chest, “And with his wife gone, I'm sure the two must be energetic young creatures...”

“Wait, hold on a minute,” Jack interrupted, sitting up a little with a frown, “Who's Bunnymund? What happened to his wife? Why is he visiting?”

King North and Pitch glanced at each other before North cleared his throat, saying softly, “Ah, yes... you were merely a babe when they came last time...”

“Father,” Pitch spoke softly, getting the King's attention briefly before North rose a hand, silently calming him. He turned back to Jack, then, who looked just as confused, and he began to explain.

“King Aster Bunnymund rules the land of Eternal Spring--”

“Gradina?” Jack asked, getting a brief smile from both the King and Pitch.

“Yes,” King North replied happily, “I'm glad you're focusing in your studies.” Jack took a moment to revel in the praise, and even when he looked to Pitch, who was smirking victoriously, he still felt like he won something small.

“They're a neutral kingdom, aren't they?” Jack asked, excited to get more praise, and he earned a soft chuckle from his father.

“Yes, that is true. Which is why it's so important we show them great hospitality. We plan to offer ourselves as allies. It's important to us that they agree, after all. Their armies have been increasing in size lately, which is a little worrisome, considering the distance between us. If we gain their companionship, they will no longer be a threat.” He explained, and Jack pursed his lips a little as he thought about it.

“Then what about his wife?” Jack asked, looking up at his father once more, “What happened to her?”

“She...--” The King began, but Pitch was the one to cut in this time.

“She was a victim of illness. She passed two years after they had visited our kingdom. Her death was sad, but it was a matter of circumstance, and the lack of proper medicine. There was nothing _anybody_ could do to help.” Pitch huffed, as if the topic bothered him, and with the way he leaned back and crossed his legs, looking to the wall instead of Jack, it sure seemed like it did. Even his father seemed uncomfortable by the topic, but he hid it much better than Pitch.

“But let's not talk of that right now.” The King sighed, changing the topic, “What I want to talk to the two of you is that we plan to throw a festival during their stay. They plan to stay for a week, perhaps two, then will move on. We need to put together a festival that will impress them, but we are having trouble finding the right performers. We cannot settle for our usual tricksters and jokers, we need something rare. Extravagant, even. We doubt we will be able to put something like this together before they arrive, so we are relying on the two of you to distract them somehow. You will still be required to stay relatively silent, and because they will be staying in the castle with us, you will need to wear your veils outside of your rooms. Jack, I suggest you carry your staff with you at all times, as well, just in case. And absolutely no magic, from either of you.”

“I understand,” Jack agreed, though he didn't like the idea of it. He hated the veil, and he hated wearing it in his own home. He knew Pitch didn't like it, either, but the older Prince was much more committed to his responsibilities than Jack. Pitch probably would have worn the veil even if their father hadn't suggested it.

“It will only be for two short weeks.” The Queen contested, putting a hand on Jack's shoulder to try and soothe him out of his pout, “It will be over before you know it.”

Jack didn't grace that with a response.

“Well, if that is all that we must discuss, I believe it is time Jack and I returned to our studies.” Pitch sighed, getting up from his seat and straightening out his black cloak, “Jack, come.”

The young Prince huffed and got to his own feet, and the King and Queen stood as well, bidding them well in their studies as they left. When the door closed behind them, Jack tore away from Pitch and immediately started heading up to his room, intent on sulking. Pitch sighed at his dramatics, and he followed after him, crossing his arms.

“Jack, come on, you can't sulk all day.” He complained, not moving to stop Jack as they climbed the spiral staircase, though he moved in front of him and held the door to Jack's bedroom shut when the Prince tried to slip inside. Jack glared up at him, already more than annoyed.

“Move aside,” He huffed, squeezing his hands into fists, and Pitch rose a curious brow.

“Our lessons are not done, today, Jack.” Pitch pointed out, keeping the door shut, “In fact, we should be doubling our lessons while we await His Majesty's arrival. If we are to request their alliance, we must show them how great the future King will be!”

“Oh, just stop it, Pitch!” Jack rose his voice, stomping his foot angrily, “It's not like we could even present ourselves to Bunnymund!” and he pointedly ignored Pitch when he tried to correct him to say 'His Majesty', continuing his rant instead, “We can't speak, we can't show our faces—We can't be ourselves, Pitch! Doesn't that upset you?”

“Jack, you know it's for our own good—!” Pitch tried to explain, using the same words everyone told Jack whenever he threw a tantrum about the veil.

“For our own good!” Jack shouted, bordering on hysterical now, “It's for our own good? Is it, Pitch? Or are you just repeating what we've been told since we learned to talk?”

Pitch didn't respond to that, he merely squinted at Jack, as if trying to figure out if he should be taken seriously or not. His hand was still on the door, and even when Jack tried to push him out of the way, Pitch stayed rooted to where he stood, and his eyes only narrowed further, his lips pursing in distaste.

“I am telling you what I know,” Pitch said in an even, low voice, “I am telling you what I believe.” but Jack only scoffed at him, pacing back and forth in front of the older Prince. Pitch watched him, and he said a bit louder, “You are angry, but you do not understand, Jack! The reason why I push you so hard, the reason why I agree with Father to wear the veil, is because I know it's for your own good!”

“You don't know what's good for me!” Jack argued, pacing a bit faster, “You only pretend to know! You only pretend to _care!”_

“That's not true and you know it!” Pitch yelled, stopping Jack in his tracks, but still holding the door shut, knowing the young Prince would slip inside if given the chance, “I care _deeply_ for you, Jack! Your future is my responsibility! Your life is in my hands! I do what I must in order to better you, to craft you into the King I know you can be!”

“No!” Jack shouted, becoming furious now, “You're molding me into the King _you_ want to be! You _don't_ care, Pitch! You're just jealous!”

“Jealous?!” Pitch scoffed, actually taken aback by such an accusation, and Jack pressed forward, stepping into Pitch's personal space as he did so.

“Yes! You're jealous that I get the throne when father dies instead of you! You aren't making me into a better person, you're making me into you!” Jack yelled, gesturing wildly, even shoving Pitch a few times, and in stunned silence, Pitch staggered back, finally releasing the door. Jack took the moment and swung it open, glaring heatedly at Pitch, and once he was in his room, he slammed the door shut and latched it.

Pitch stared at the door, wide-eyed and baffled, but he could say nothing more. He couldn't even defend himself now, since Jack had successfully locked himself away. With nothing left to do, Pitch retreated to his own room, a pain growing in his chest.

Jack listened for Pitch's retreating footsteps from inside his room, and when he knew the other had given up, he slid down the door and sat on the ground, pulling his knees to his chest and hiding his face in his arms. He was ashamed of himself, and felt guilty of his words, but he didn't think he was wrong. Pitch would be the kind of guy to do such a thing, after all, and Jack knew how much Pitch craved being a rightful son.

Still, Jack knew deep inside himself that he was wrong to have said those things. He had hurt Pitch deeply, and he would have to apologize eventually. For now, however, he let his anger fester, and he forced himself onto his feet so he could pace his room, tugging at his brown hair anxiously and muttering under his breath.

“Stupid... Self-obsessed.... _Ridiculous!”_ He fumed, wishing he had something to take out his misdirected anger on, but the most he could do was throw himself onto his bed and stare up into the sheer white canopy, his thoughts running a mile a minute.

“He hates me...” Jack whispered to himself, his heart sinking to his stomach, though he knew he couldn't possibly be right about it, “He only cares about my lessons... my knowledge... he doesn't care about _me..._ ”

Jack rolled onto his side, looking at his pillows where his staff lied, and he took a deep breath before he closed his eyes. The staff glittered in the sunlight slipping through the cracks of the shutters, the blue orb glowing faintly as it laid close to its owner. Jack felt his stomach burn in shame, and he wanted nothing more than to cry, but he forced himself to sleep instead. Jack knew Pitch wanted nothing to do with him, not unless it meant Jack would take the throne...

_But he was wrong. He didn't understand my feelings for him, he never really would... I wanted more for him, so much more, but he would have never taken me seriously had I told him. There was so much left to teach you, Jack... so much._

Jack awoke from his nap in a better mood, and as he rolled around on his bed to a more comfortable position, he spied the parchment hidden underneath his pillow. That's right, tonight was the night he would slip out of here unnoticed. Tonight was the night he would see a dragon.

The fight with Pitch still replayed in the back of his mind, but he forced himself to ignore it. He had something more important to look forward to, now. Something that meant everything to him. But if he wanted to be successful this time, it meant he had to prepare a lot more. He spent the time he had left before his chambermaid arrived to dress him for bed preparing his escape. Beneath his bed, he hid a small satchel holding a few gold, silver, and bronze pieces, a small knife, and the parchment with the performance's information on it. He hid the satchel with a brown cloak and a pair of dirtied brown trousers only servants wore, and beside that, a pair of thick slippers, which would hopefully protect his feet from whatever was out there. He preferred going barefoot when he explored his town, but if he was going to leave the town, he would need some protection.

He hid his items just in time for the door to swing open, his chambermaid walking in with a soft smile, but they didn't hold much of a conversation, Jack too busy planning his escape in his mind, and the old woman too busy trying to get Jack to focus in order to undress him properly. When he was finally in his night gown, she tucked him into bed, then placed her hand on his forehead, surprising him.

“...What is it?” Jack asked her, frowning as she moved her hand to his cheek instead, and she gave him a small smile.

“Just making sure you aren't falling ill, Your Highness. You seem awfully quiet tonight.” She expressed her worry, letting go of his face and merely looking down at him, “You're feeling fine, aren't you?”

“Of course. I'm just... thinking.” He said, and she smiled a bit more and nodded.

“Well, don't think all night. You must get your rest, my Prince, or else you really will fall ill.” She scolded lightly, and Jack smiled back at her before nodding.

“I'll keep that in mind,” he chuckled, getting more comfortable where he lay, and his chambermaid smiled wider at him before bidding him goodnight and leaving. Jack watched her go, laying still even after the door had closed and she had departed, and it wasn't until the last faint echoes of her footsteps faded did Jack get up from his bed. Instead of merely throwing his covers haphazardly back in place, though, Jack went to his closet and pulled out another night gown he had, and he wrapped it around one of his pillows. Stuffing that underneath the blankets, he tucked the staff right beside it, to make it look like he was sleeping with it in his arms, like he usually did. The brief rush of magic between the staff and himself made him shudder, and it only filled him with more excitement for what was to come.

He ducked down and pulled out the trousers he hid, and he tugged them on, tucking the skirt of his night gown beneath the waistband, making it look like a loose, long-sleeved tunic. He threw the cape over his shoulders as well, pulling the hood over his head to hide his brown hair, then he tugged the satchel over his head, hanging the strap across his chest. Checking it once more to make sure everything was inside, Jack then tugged on his slippers and opened up the window. He peered out for a few minutes, spotting the Castle Gardener taking care of the window plants, and he gasped and ducked down when the man suddenly looked up.

Jack waited there for a minute longer, then slowly peeked back out, relieved to see the gardener retreating to inside of the castle, none the wiser to Jack's newest plot. The young Prince slipped out of his room, then, leaving behind his title and his staff for the night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously nothing inspires me more than your comments people


	4. The Wandering Circus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack goes to the circus and totally doesn't fall in love with the dragon tamer. pfft.

The night air was cold and crisp, and only a few wandered so late at night. Jack made sure his hood covered his face, even through he was sure if he went without, he wouldn't be recognized anyways. The whole point of the veil was to keep those his father ruled from knowing what he looked like, anyways. Still, Jack figured it would be best to keep his face hidden anyways. A teenager wandering the town streets in the middle of the night wasn't entirely suspicious, but one heading for the town gate was.

Walking fast, Jack constantly glanced behind him, proud of himself each time he realized he wasn't being followed. His ruse must have worked, and he doubted he would be caught unless he didn't return by morning. He planned to be back well before then, however.

He could see the smoke climbing into the sky from where he was, occasionally losing it behind a building, and it spurred him on. Stepping lightly, Jack hurried towards the town gate, passing by a few buildings with lamps still glowing on the porch.

Years back, when Jack first started to try escaping Castle Town, he had snuck into the war room and discovered a rather detailed map describing the paths the town guards were supposed to take. Of course, the first time he had gotten caught, such paths had been changed. That didn't mean Jack no longer had a basic idea of where they would be, though.

Skillfully, Jack ducked behind buildings when he noticed a guard coming by. It wasn't hard not to be noticed, he just had to turn his back to where they were and hunch over to pretend as if he were drunk, and they walked on by. He passed through the majority of the town like this, and soon enough, the town gate was in sight. And it was then when he was first spoken to that night.

“Well hello, little man,” A woman called out to Jack, surprising the teen and making him spin around. She stood on a porch, leaning heavily on the railing. She wore a tattered dress that clung too tightly to her body, and her bust was nearly spilling out of her top. Jack blinked at her, taken aback by her lecherous smile, and he glanced around, making her giggle.

“I'm talking to you, sweetie,” She said teasingly, pointing at Jack and smiling wider, “What's a thing like you running around this late at night? Why don't you come over here and stay for the night?”

This was definitely out of Jack's area. He blinked hard, then shook his head and try to speak back, but all he was able to get out was a rather dumb, “Uh...” which only seemed charming to her—or she pretended it was.

“Oh, don't be shy, darling! I won't bite too hard.” And she gave him a wink that made Jack shudder in distaste. He was about to refuse her outright, but their conversation seemed to have caught more attention.

“Hey! What's going on over here?” A guard called out, throwing Jack into a panic and the woman merely looked annoyed. Jack ducked his head and tried walking away, but the guard shouted for him to stay where he is.

“Oh, leave it, castle man, he isn't harming me.” The woman scoffed, crossing her arms and standing up straight. Jack felt his shoulders stiffen the closer he heard the guard come, and the man grumbled a bit before addressing the woman.

“A beautiful young woman like you shouldn't be harassed by boys,” The guard flirted, and Jack tried again to inch further into the shadows, but the guard growled at him, “Stay where you are, child!”

“I said leave it!” The woman huffed, picking up her skirts and stepping off the porch, coming between the guard and Jack. She put a hand on Jack's shoulder, pushing him away and whispering to him, “Run along, child.”

Having no argument to that, Jack gulped and bobbed his head, then took off as quickly as he could through the alleyways in the buildings. He could hear the guard yelling for him to stop once again, but the woman from the porch rose her own voice, telling the guard to back down.

When Jack was sure he was out of the situation, he paused his running and slumped against a building, his heart practically leaping out of his chest. Never before did he feel as though his life was on the line, and that interaction sure cut it close.

Taking a few more encouraging breaths, Jack forced himself onward, reminding himself of his ultimate goal: To see the Wandering Circus.

Except with that experience in the forefront of his mind, Jack became more careful about where he stepped. Luckily, it hadn't proved to be much of a delay in his arrival to the gate, and soon he stood at the center of it, right where Pitch had been a mere two nights prior. Behind him were no signs of guards, and in front of him... freedom.

Jack hesitated at this point. He wanted to take the step forward onto the small drawbridge that separated the town from the forest, but he felt that if he took that step, he would be caught suddenly, and in much deeper trouble than ever before. He cast one more look around him, reassuring himself that he was alone at the town gate. He looked back to the forest in front of him, and the narrow dirt path that lead from the drawbridge and into the thick. Past the first few trees was darkness, and past that, the Circus.

Swallowing his fears, Jack decided once and for all that he would do this. He had come this far, and he would only kick himself if he turned back now. He needed this night of disobedience. He needed to experience this as a person, not a prince. This night would change his life—and for the better, he added mentally.

Pumping himself up with a few quiet words to himself, Jack allowed his eyes to slip shut and his hands to ball into fists as he took that first, tentative step onto the wooden bridge. He could feel the lack of ground beneath it, heard the way it groaned with the weight, but it held steady, and that small form of stability encouraged Jack even further.

Peeking an eye open, Jack settled his full weight on the one foot—glanced around once again as a precaution—then swung his other leg forward, settling that foot down on the drawbridge as well. His heart was pounding and a smile grew on his lips that wouldn't be dashed. Another step forward and his entire body relaxed, his shoulders slumping at how amazing it felt to be a simple three feet away from Castle Town. He swore the air felt different as it brushed against his skin.

Five more quick steps, and dirt met his feet once more, except this was _foreign_ dirt, in _foreign_ land. The way he could feel the pebbles and twigs beneath his shoes was an experience in itself, and he never felt so alive. He could scream with how overwhelmed he was, and it was in the best of ways. He took a few shaky steps along the dirt path, as if it were his first time walking, then he couldn't help the laughter that bubbled from his chest as he ran a hand up and down the bark of a tree. It was rough and he was certain he had a splinter caught in his palm, but the pain didn't deter him in the slightest.

Letting out an elated cry, Jack took off down the path, letting his hands brush against hanging leaves and hopping over protruding roots. A low hanging branch came into view, and Jack leapt at it, swinging from it and thrusting himself forward. The few seconds of air he had achieved brought his heart into his throat, and he whooped delightedly as he continued to race down the trail.

He paused at one point, where the tree branches parted and the sky was visible. Looking up at the twinkling stars and the large, round blue moon, Jack suddenly felt compelled to either sing or speak poetry, unable to contain his awe for the absolute beauty of the new world around him. He was breath-taken by it all, and he breathed out a few lines of poetry on the spot. However, his words faltered when he heard in the distance the sound of a trumpet playing.

His heart jumped. He must be near the Circus!

Taking off once more, Jack hurried down the path towards the noise, and when he emerge to a rather large clearing in the woods, he saw a huge, colorful tent raised and a large crowd of people shifting around it They were all converging around a small ticket booth, where a short man sat with a tin and a roll of little papers allowing entrance. Jack joined in the crowd, able to push his way through the narrow gaps between people so he could get closer to the vendor. As he squeezed by, he heard languages being used from all over. He had to pause a moment to look around at the crowd he was in, his brows raising when he realized it wasn't just people from his kingdom standing here.

Castle Town stood at the center of Northern Mesa, but the King was lenient with travelers from all over. Northern Mesa never really had any enemies—or at least any that could cause a big enough fuss to close the borders. Still, Jack had never really seen anyone else come through Castle Town, and even though this Wandering Circus had come, he still hadn't noticed talk of an influx of people. They must be staying in other towns nearby, Jack thought to himself, but even those places Jack hadn't been to. He wondered if Castle Town wasn't the best example of the population in the rest of his kingdom, as he began to notice individuals with vastly different clothing styles, skin tones, and even markings on their faces to differentiate them from the rest.

Jack had to fight the urge to stare in wonder, certain that if he dragged any attention to himself, it would be the wrong kind. With a promise to himself to study more into the kingdom's population, Jack pushed forward once again, and was soon up against the ticket vendor's booth, a wide smile on his face. The little man looked at him boredly, and his brow had an annoyed twitch due to the noise around him. He jutted out the tin, shaking the coin inside to emphasize Jack had to pay, and the Prince began to rustle into his coin purse, looking for bronze.

“How much is it?” He asked the man, wondering if he had even brought with him a bronze piece.

“Two bronze pieces for entrance.” The little man replied tonelessly, having said it too many times that night to be pleasant about it.

“Shoot,” Jack grumbled, now knowing he didn't have the bronze, and he looked up at the man before producing a silver piece, “Do you think we could trade?”

The little man narrowed his eyes at Jack, then down to the coin purse in his hand before shaking his head, “We don't give, boy. Silver will do just fine.” And he shook the tin again.

Now it was Jack's turn to squint, and he held tight to the silver piece in his hand, saying, “You just told me two bronze. You have enough bronze in there to equal silver, don't you?”

“Aye,” He answered, but didn't move to take the bronze out. He shook the tin one more time, raising an impatient brow at the teen, and Jack scoffed and threw the silver in.

“Disgusting little man.” Jack hissed at him, but the man merely smiled and ripped of a ticket for Jack, which the Prince snatched from his hand. Stalking off towards the tent opening, Jack had to take a moment away from the crowd to calm down. So he had been swindled, it didn't really hurt him. It felt unfair, sure, but Jack didn't want to let it ruin his night.

Putting his angry thoughts aside, Jack took in a deep breath before heading for the opening. He waved his ticket at the man guarding the tent, and with a nod he was let in.

The tent was huge, even on the inside. Three rows of seats line the outer edge, following the circular wooden platform set in the center. Already, the front seats were filled, and the second row was close to being completed. Jack rushed to get a seat, sliding into place behind a relatively short woman and man, who were sitting close together and whispering. Jack settled in the wooden chair, finding it just a little uncomfortable, but he was sure he wouldn't be thinking much of it when the show begins. 

The tent filled up quickly, and when all the seats were taken, people opted to stand in the far back, crowding close together to fit even more people inside. A chandelier hung from the top of the tent, and someone was hanging from that, lighting the torches on it. When the tent was enveloped in the dim firelight, the tent flaps closed and the individual on the chandelier fell back.

With a shriek, everyone flinched away, fearing that they were about to witness the death of a poor circus actor, but the woman's legs hooked around the curve of the chandelier at the last minute, hanging her from the metal bar. A trumpet blasted and everyone heaved a sigh of relief, and she smiled down at the crowd. A ribbon began to descend from the ceiling, right beside the chandelier, and when it was far enough down, she grabbed onto it and gracefully arched into the air, her toes pointing and her knees bending beautifully. She swung around on the ribbon, twirling in the air, and wrapped it around her middle. She lied back in the air, the ribbon holding her up, and she let out and airy sigh that was surprisingly well-heard throughout the tent. Her display was a well-enough distraction to keep the masses from noticing the man walk onto the stage, and with a booming voice, he greeted them all.

“Welcome, friends, to the Wandering Circus!”

And at that, the people cheered excitedly. Jack even found himself clapping along. The Ringmaster, as he so introduced himself, thanked them for coming out that night, and wished them all a well-enjoyed experience before he introduced the first act, which was the woman hanging from the ceiling. She, however, was not the only one with this kind of grace, and three more ribbons descended from the top of the tent, two men and one more woman hanging from them. They seemed to dance in the air, the display almost alluring, and they even switched ribbons from time to time.

After that calming display of beauty, however, the show picked up the pace, and the next act was introduced: Fire breathers.

The man was sort of short, but he was bulky, and his arms flexed when he crossed them. He had a mean look on his face, and he approached the young girl holding out a rack of torches with cold indifference. Taking the unlit torches, the man pressed his lips into a hard line. He cast a glance around the crowd, and Jack knew he was secretly loving the attention.

A snap was heard, and the guy blew out a hard breath. What looked like spit shooting from his lips then turned into a heavy stream of fire, which he lit the torch with, then proceeded to blow into the air above him. The fire grew to at least a yard before it dwindled out, and the crowd loved it. He displayed his power twice more, each time after a snap was given, and Jack felt like he would pass out from the sheer excitement he was feeling.

After the Fire-breather came the twins, who could bend and twist further than any human Jack had seen before. They twisted around each other, stuck their head through their legs and smiled at the people sat behind them, They could roll themselves into a ball—backwards—and push each other around the floor. 

They exited the stage with a deep bow, and taking their place was yet another bulky man, though he was much taller than the Fire-breather He also had a prominent mark on his chin, much like the people Jack had seen outside the tent before the show. Perhaps those were his people?

Jack thought he would be doing something requiring strength with how buff he was, but was surprised and a bit confused when the man pulled out two long, thin swords. He held them out to the crowd as a young woman brought out a long piece of bamboo, and the man quickly sliced at it with the swords, cutting it up in pieces. Well, it was certainly sharp.

The man turned back to the crowd with a grin, then tilted his head back and raised the sword, sharp end pointing down. With a gasp, realization came over the crowd, and Jack eagerly leaned forward. What sort of idiot would willingly put sharpened blades down his throat? The blade began to descend into the man's open mouth, going deeper and deeper until the handle was resting against his lips. He turned slowly, showing everyone that it was, indeed, where it was, then took a deep bow—sword still inside.

Cheering ensued, and the man stood up straight and pulled the blade back out. He did this twice more, then did multiple at once before he stepped off the stage, a loud applause following him out.

A few more smaller performances took place afterwards, not as impressive as the first ones, but still intriguing. When the fourth small performer left the stage, the ringmaster stepped on and calmed the cheering crowd. In a strong voice, he addressed them.

“Our last and best performance requires a little... crowd participation. We request that you all stay in your seats, and not to make any sudden movements, lest you make yourselves targets. This last performance will be a dangerous one, and if you value your lives, I would suggest leaving now.”

Jack glanced around—as did a few other patrons—to see if anyone decided to leave. A good handful of them murmured to one another before they got up and left the tent, their uncertainty feeding Jack's excitement. This must be it, Jack decided. The Dragon Tamer must be the next one up.

And if the Ringmaster was calling it their best performance, Jack wasn't about to doubt him. Even on the fliers advertising their Circus, they had spent a lot of time emphasizing the Dragon Tamer's talents. When the last of the trickling customers left the tent, the Ringmaster grinned and announced the Dragon Tamer's arrival.

“And now, may I present to you all... Horrendous, the Dragon Tamer!” He cried, and the crowd gave a fresh, eager round of cheers, Jack among them. This was what they had all been waiting for, after all. This was what would make their nights.

The man who came onto the stage at that point was... surprisingly underwhelming. He seemed used to the way the cheers dissipated upon seeing him, and he gave a careless shrug as he continued to meander his way to center stage. He was tall, sure, but he was thin and lacked any sort of muscle. He looked like he would be the one to snap under the dragon's influence, not tame it.

Despite his unimpressive nature, Jack still felt strangely interested by him. His fire red hair flared out just below his ears, a few tufts curling into the air at the top of his head, making it look wild. He grinned wide at his audience, showing off a set of buck teeth that made him charming somehow, and his sparkling green eyes only added to the fact. He began to speak, his voice lacking the same kind of bass the Ringmaster's had, and was much quieter than his as well, but he held their attention, making up for what he lacked with charisma.

“Welcome, everyone! I'm glad you stayed to see my act. What I will present to you now is something very dangerous—life threatening, in fact—and I implore you all to please, never try this yourselves! I have been blessed with this skill by the Gods, and I use it with much practice! Now please, remember the warning the Ringmaster has given you.” He said, his voice cryptic, but pleasant. Jack wasn't sure what was happening to him, but he wanted to hear the man speak more.

Just then, a cage was being wheeled onto stage, covered with a thick sheet that smoke leaked from just underneath it. The cage rattled and jerked violently as it was brought up, and Horrendous looked upon it with a frown. When the cage reached its spot, the two women who brought it there ripped the cloth from it, exposing the red-scaled beast within. The cage looked much too small for a beast of its kind, and it roared and screeched in discomfort and fear. It knocked against the cage walls once more, nearly toppling it over, but the cage stayed upright. Horrendous let the beast exhaust itself of its fury before he brought up a cautionary hand.

A hissing noise began to fall from Horrendous' lips, followed by a dragon-esque grunt and growl. The dragon in the cage blinked at the man, righting itself as it listened to what he had to say. Horrendous continued to speak to the beast, approaching the cage calmly, but then it looked as if the caged beast were offended, and it let out a deafening roar that had the crowd cowering back and covering their ears. The beast exploded into flames, and Horrendous was forced to take a few steps back as it raged once more.

Horrendous rose his voice over the beast's crying, spitting and howling back at him until the beast was silenced and the flames along its body dispersed. With a stronger tone, Horrendous spoke to the creature, advancing once again when he deemed it safe.

He extended his hand, and the dragon squirmed a bit in uncertainty before it finally gave in, dropping its head down and allowing Horrendous to place his hand upon its snout. A hushed gasp overcame the crowd, and they watched in a mix of horror and amazement as Horrendous unlocked the cage and freed the beast, who followed his hand obediently as it stepped out of the metal box. The crowd leaned forward in their seats, and Jack was gripping the cloth of his pants tightly as he watched.

When the dragon was entirely out, Horrendous slowly lowered his hand, cooing the entire time, and the dragon merely laid down on the stage, dropping its head almost boredly. At this point, Horrendous' grin became infectious in the crowd, and he allowed them to give him a gentle applause, as to not scare the beast. When the noise died down, Horrendous spoke to the beast again, and it grumbled back to him before it slowly got up to its feet.

“We will now perform a few small tricks.” Horrendous announced to the people, and Jack smothered his laughter when he saw how annoyed the dragon looked at the man speaking to him.

Their tricks consisted of the dragon flying around the small tent space, making smoke-circles then breaking it with its tail, and even lighting itself back on fire. Horrendous commanded each and every trick with a growl or coo, and at the very end, he took a low bow, and the dragon lowered its head right beside him. The crowd was allowed to cheer, and even the dragon looked pleased at the noise.

When Horrendous rose up again, the dragon in tow, he said in a much too cheery voice, “Now, who wants to tame a dragon?”

Immediately, the tent went silent, the crowd stilled with fear. All but one young man, who immediately leapt from his seat and threw his hand into the air.

“Me! Me, me, me!” Jack all but begged, and everyone turned to look at him in absolute shock—even the Dragon Tamer himself. Horrendous blinked at the excited young lad from the crowd, then smiled wide—wider than he had smiled all day—and waved an arm at him.

“Come on, then! Let's see how brave you are when you're facing the beast yourself.” Horrendous said teasingly, but the smile on his face was one of absolute delight. Jack felt his heart leap, and he quickly rushed through the aisle of seats and went down to the stage to stand beside the man, and was surprised once again by him.

The man was thin, but he was tall. Taller than Jack originally thought, and he stood at least a full head higher than he. His red hair looked even brighter the closer Jack was, and Jack could clearly see the heavy spatter of freckles across his nose and falling down his neck, underneath his tunic. He looked so thin from the chairs, but when Jack was in front of him, he could see the light muscle he had, especially in his arms. His hands were rough and calloused, and he held it out to Jack for a shake.

“What's your name, kid?” Horrendous asked, and Jack let his own hand slip into Horrendous', giving him a firm shake. Horrendous looked mildly surprise, those forest green eyes flickering down to Jack's soft hand before going back to his face.

“Jack,” The prince replied with a smirk, his eyes narrowing a little, “And I am no child.”

Horrendous' own eyes narrowed a little, though they twinkled with intrigue, and he let out a soft laugh before he let go of Jack's hand. “Well, Jack,” He said, putting a hand on his hip and arching a brow, “How do you feel about dragons?”

“They're incredible beasts!” Jack said immediately, looking towards the giant red-scaled creature that was standing at the far side of the stage, eyeing the newcomer warily, “This one in particular!”

Jack wanted to step towards it, but when he met eyes with the beast, it growled deeply at him, making Jack seize up for a moment. Horrendous laughed at the little show, smothering his smile with his hand, then he shook his head and said lightly, “Well, if you really mean what you say, then I'll be glad to help you 'train' it.”

Jack looked back to Horrendous, a wide smile spreading across his face, and he was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet by now. Horrendous laughed again, the noise calming and charming, but before Jack could really appreciate it, the red-head was turning towards the dragon and walking towards it.

“Stay right where you are, Jack.” Horrendous instructed him from over his shoulder as he sauntered towards the dragon, holding out a trained hand and soothing the irritated beast, “I'll bring him to you.”

Jack smiled to himself, his eyes looking over the Dragon Tamer and his head tilting to the side. Crossing his arms, Jack shrugged and said, “Of course,” in a soft voice, surprising himself when his eyes dropped below Horrendous' waist.

Well, perhaps it was his name, but it definitely was not the description Jack would give him.

Jack blinked at his own thoughts, then pointedly looked up at the back of Horrendous' head. Well, that was something he hoped would never happen again.

Horrendous met the dragon, who had willingly pressed the tip of its snout against the palm of his hand, then he cast a sly smirk over his shoulder at Jack, their eyes meeting for a long moment. Jack found his embarrassment dissipate, and he smirked right back.

Nevermind, he thought to himself. He hoped it  _would_ happen again.

“Now extend your right hand in front of you and close your eyes.” Horrendous told him, and Jack didn't hesitate to listen. When his eyes were closed, he felt suddenly nervous. Without being able to see the dragon, Jack wasn't sure if he was on the brink of being torched or tackled. His heart began to race in anxiety, and he nearly jumped when he heard Horrendous say right beside him:

“Do you trust me?”

Jack let out a long breath, then nodded his head before whispering back, “Yes.” 

Horrendous let out a light laugh, his breath brushing against the back of Jack's neck, and he whispered back, “Good. Hold still, and don't jump.”

Jack took a deep breath, readying himself, and just a few seconds later, he felt a sudden heat against his palm, followed by the roughness of scales. Jack gasped, but his arm didn't move, and the touch to his palm pressed harder against him. Jack felt his heart flutter, and even before Horrendous said he could, he opened his eyes and saw the beast staring at him. The beast had large, green eyes, and its pupils dilated gorgeously as it looked into Jack's eyes.

Jack's breath stuttered, his eyelashes fluttering for a moment at the sight before him, and he let out another disbelieving breath. He could feel Horrendous right behind him, and could see his hand just above Jack's. He had lead the dragon to Jack, it seemed.

“Do you feel it?” Horrendous whispered to him, and Jack looked towards the auburn haired man to find his eyes twinkling with hope, those beautiful green irises sparkling in the torchlight. Jack felt caught by his gaze, feeling as though Horrendous was searching for something in him. When Jack didn't answer him, Horrendous pressed him, “Do you?”

“I...” Jack gasped, finding himself surprisingly breathless, and he had to swallow before saying again, “I'm feeling... quite a lot right now.”

Then Jack turned his gaze to the beast's, finding it less intimidating than the calculating stare Horrendous was giving him, and he breathed, “I can feel its power. I can feel my heart racing. I can feel you behind me... your hand just above mine...”

Then he looked up at Horrendous again, who looked a little more than disappointed. When their gazes met once again, Jack added in the barest of whispers, “Above all, I feel... a connection.”

Horrendous' gaze lit up once more, and a genuine smile graced his lips. Satisfied with Jack's answer, Horrendous stepped away from and turned to the crowd, announcing in a jovial tone, “The dragon has been tamed, yet again!”

The crowd gave Jack a polite applause, amused by his excitement at being with the beast, and Horrendous turned back to Jack and gestured for him to take a bow. The Prince grinned wide, carefully pulled his hand away from the beast, then bowed properly to the crowd. When the applause died down, Horrendous looked at Jack and said, “Go back to your seat, now. Thanks for coming down.”

“Thanks for letting me train it.” Jack said back with a quick wink, and he quickly headed off the stage and back to his seat. When he settled down, the two people on either side of Jack looked at him a bit closer, as if trying to see if he had been harmed in either way. Jack felt a bit paranoid by their stares, and tugged his hood further down, hunching his shoulders. He didn't want to be discovered now.

When Jack was back among the crowd, Horrendous took another bow and thanked the rest of them for coming, then quickly climbed onto the dragon's back, startling the crowd once more. The dragon reared back with the man on him, then let out a loud roar before it shot into the air, tearing through the top of the tent in its escape.

Another applause followed them out, and then the Ringmaster came out one last time, giving everyone a formal ending. Satisfied with the show, the people around Jack began to stand and disperse, exiting the tents and loudly talking amongst themselves. Jack sat in his seat for a bit longer, his mind replaying the wonders he had just seen.

The night had been magical, from men spitting fire to an alluring red-headed man carelessly riding a dragon. The young prince felt like he could die and go to heaven just about then, and with a light heart, Jack stood and made to follow the last of the crowd outside of the tent.

From the corner of his eye, Jack spotted the Ringmaster and one of the young women from the show speaking together, and then slipping out from the tent through a hidden flap on the other side of the stage. Jack's curiosity was piqued instantly, especially when he had caught the slightest hint of people beyond that flap.

Glancing back towards the exit Jack was heading towards, he made a quick decision. Pretending he had forgotten something, Jack ducked out of the crowd and rushed back towards the seat, constantly looking over his shoulder. When he was sure no one was watching, he quickly hopped down to the stage and ran towards the hidden exit. Taking one last glance towards the crowd, Jack took a quick breath and ducked through.

Coming out on the other side, Jack felt his breath be stolen once more. Hidden behind the tent and in the trees was almost a town in itself, with a congregation of multicolored tents. There were even more people walking around than Jack had seen in the show, all of them coming together at the center of this makeshift town, where a large bonfire flickered. Logs laid around the fire in a wide circle where some of the people sat and ate, and among them Jack saw the Fire-Breather.

He began to make his way towards the individual, intent on asking him a few questions about his talent, when he was suddenly approached from behind and addressed.

“Oh? Who goes there?” Came the light, teasing voice, and Jack spun around with a smile brighter than the moon itself. Behind him stood the tall Dragon Tamer, his eyes narrowed suspiciously, but a smirk on his lips, “A thief in the night?”

“A thief I am not. A very satisfied audience member, however, I am.” Jack corrected him, reaching up to pull his hood a bit closer to his head, especially when a couple other Circus members passed by, glancing towards them, “In fact, I was so satisfied I had wanted to come back here and give you all my thanks, personally.”

“I believe we heard your thanks well enough, along with the rest of the crowd,” Horrendous said a little rudely, and when Jack's smile faltered, the redhead looked panicked and grumbled under his breath before adding, “I didn't mean—I very much appreciate it, but you didn't have to sneak back here just to say it again.”

“Oh, but I did!” Jack said, his eyes lighting up again when he realized Horrendous wasn't trying to be mean, “You don't know how much seeing this Circus meant to me—and I'm truly appreciative that it wasn't for naught. Besides, it means a lot to  _me_ that you know how indebted I am to you. Er... all of you.”

Horrendous' green eyes sparkled a bit at Jack's words, then he stifled a laugh behind his palm and shook his head, “For naught? Indebted? You're very... articulate for a commoner.”

“Commoner?” Jack blurted in slight disgust before he caught himself, and luckily Horrendous took it the wrong way, and immediately apologized.

“I mean, there's nothing wrong with being one! Besides, I shouldn't talk, I'm a circus performer.”

They fell into a slightly awkward silence then, Jack trying to figure out how to speak next, unsure if his identity was in jeopardy or not, and Horrendous trying to remedy the situation he believed he made intense. With a decisive breath, Horrendous shook his head and pushed their past conversation to the side, starting instead with, “You're... Jack, right? Why don't I give you a tour around the place, so you can give everyone else your thanks?”

At that, Jack's eyes widened and his smile grew once more, relieving the Dragon Tamer immensely. Jack barely had to utter a yes before Horrendous was taking him by the hand and pulling him towards the bonfire. They caught the attention of those surrounding the fire, including the Fire-Breather himself.

With a guffaw, the man slapped a hand onto his stomach and shouted, “Egad! The Dragon Tamer has returned with another beast!”

“The only beast in my sights is you, Snotlout!” Horrendous shot back, and the man looked legitimately surprised while everyone else erupted into delighted laughter.

“Who have you brought?” the man who swallowed blades asked, making his way towards the fire and sitting down on one of the empty logs, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“His name is Jack,” Horrendous introduced, gesturing to the brunet and smiling, “He was the one who came down and pet the dragon in the show.”

A chorus of 'ooh's came over the crowd for a moment, then Snotlout scoffed and said, “You act like it isn't an easy thing to do.”

“Haven't seen you do it.” Horrendous bit back immediately, making the others snort in laughter once again, and Jack smiled timidly.

“I wouldn't have been able to if Horrendous wasn't there guiding the beast.” Jack admitted, knowing full well the act of him petting the beast was only because he had a talented trainer with him.

“Oh, of course,  _'Horrendous'_ .” Snotlout grinned, his brows arching up when Horrendous looked flustered. Jack gave them a confused look as the man who swallowed blades covered up a grin.

“Um... that's... his name, right?” Jack asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious. It didn't help that the man and Snotlout continued to chuckle privately, and Horrendous' face bloomed bright red, almost matching his hair.

“That's... just my stage name, actually.” Horrendous explained, bringing a hand up and rubbing at the back of his neck shyly before muttering, “My real name's just Hiccup. Hiccup Haddock.”

“Hiccup?” Jack repeated, sounding almost disbelieving, and Snotlout and the man immediately burst into raucous laughter, as if this was all a practical joke. Considering their laughter and the way Hiccup turned his eyes downward in embarrassment, Jack decided to give out an appraising hum, bringing his hand up to his chin and stroking it dramatically before smirking, “I like it much better than 'horrendous', honestly.” and he nudged the redhead with his elbow.

“You'd be the first.” Snotlout prodded, but then a woman was suddenly behind him, striking him across the back of his head. The man erupted in a pained shout, clutching at his head as if it had been blown in, and he twisted around until he saw the culprit.

Standing there was one of the twins from the show, her smile lopsided and lazy, “Sorry, I thought there was a creature on your head but I realized it was just your disgusting hair.” As Snotlout scoffed and sputtered his defense, she smoothly slid into place beside the man who swallowed blades, leaning heavily against him and obviously making him uncomfortable. She purred out a delightful, “Hello, gorgeous,” before her eyes drifted towards Jack and her brows rose in curiosity.

“Keep away, that one's Hiccup's.” The man warned her, making the redhead's brow furrow and his bottom lip jut out.

“Eret, cut it out. He's not even here for me, he wanted to come back here and thank us for the show.” Hiccup explained, gesturing loosely, and Jack bobbed his head in affirmation.

“Come to thank us?” Eret repeated, genuinely surprised, then he grinned and said, “Well, there is one particular way you could really show us your gratitude...”

“Oh? And what is that?” Jack asked, his fingers brushing his coin purse nervously. None of them seemed to notice, and Eret glanced at the others before spreading out his thick arms in a welcome gesture.

“Celebrating with us! We love to celebrate after our shows, especially one as successful as tonight's!” He explained, and the girl gasped excitedly before getting up.

“I'll go get Tuffnut!” She said as she quickly ran off, making the others chuckle. Snotlout got up as well, stretching out his arms and neck.

“And  _I'll_ get the booze!” He said, flexing for a moment before he headed off in the opposite direction. Hiccup grinned and took Jack's hand again, pulling him towards one of the logs and urging him to sit beside him.

“You will stay for it, won't you?” Eret asked both of them, his eyes darting between them expectantly. Hiccup rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders while Jack nodded enthusiastically, a wide grin on his face.

“I guess I can stay for a little,” Hiccup muttered with a shy smile, and Eret gave a hearty laugh before he clapped a hand down on Hiccup's shoulder. They didn't talk too much more until Snotlout returned with two heavy barrels of alcohol and the girl returned with her twin brother.

“Ruffnut says we're celebrating.” Tuffnut said excitedly, grabbing a seat next to Snoutlout and eagerly cracking open one of the barrels. Ruffnut handed down large mugs, and Snotlout filled them all before passing them around the circle. More people flocked by, but they didn't stay for the 'celebration', they merely grabbed some drink and wandered off again.

“This place is absolutely buzzing with people,” Jack mentioned as he held his heavy mug with two hands, unused to such a large amount of alcohol in one serving.

“Well, we need a lot of people to help run things in the back,” Hiccup explained with a shrug, surprisingly able to hold up the mug with just one hand, though he drank it a lot less sloppily as the others did, “They're not performers, but they're important.”

“Without them, there wouldn't even be a Wandering Circus,” Eret added with a gruff voice, the alcohol burning pleasantly on the way down. He didn't even seem as bothered when Ruffnut leaned against him again after downing her first mug like a champ.

“How did you all discover your talents, anyways?” Jack asked suddenly, bringing his mug up to his lips then cringing at the taste. It certainly wasn't wine, “I hardly think one was prone to swallowing swords or spitting fire as a baby.”

“Please, I came from my mother's womb spitting fire!” Snotlout bragged, and the others snorted at his ego.

“It only makes sense, given your mother being a downright beast herself.” Eret goaded, getting a heated glare from the other. The others laughed harder, however, and even Jack wasn't free from the laughter that bubbled from his chest.

“Well,  _I_ have a story to tell,” Eret said proudly, sitting upright and giving Jack a smug grin, “The family I came from were fierce fighters! We were all trained to be warriors with a blade, and trained with each other constantly. When I was a boy, I was fighting with my brother, and found myself defeated by him. He challenged me to a dare after that, giving me the chance to regain my honor after the defeat, and his dare was to put the blade down my throat without killing myself. Being a child desperate for approval, I accepted. Long story short, I rid myself of my gag reflex and learned that I could successfully swallow swords. Of course, it took me a few tries, but luckily my scars are not visible.”

“That's hardly a story,” Snotlout scoffed before Jack could really respond, crossing his arms and leaning back, “Mine is much more entertaining!”

When he was sure he had Jack's attention, he gave him a smirk and said, “My father was a raging drunk, and typically stayed up late by torchlight, drinking himself to death. Occasionally I would sit with him, and sometimes he would even offer me some. I turned him down time after time, until one night when we were both especially frustrated. He offered me his drink, and I finally accepted, though I didn't know how much the alcohol would burn.

“I took it past my lips, and mere seconds later I was spitting it out again. However, I didn't particularly look where I was spitting, and the next thing I knew, the alcohol set aflame, and I was spitting a curling inferno in our home. I did this trick on the street for coin until I was picked up by the Ringmaster.”

“You call that a story?” Ruffnut scoffed, and Tuffnut snorted and said, “Wait 'til you hear ours!”

When they spoke, they switched off mid-sentence, starting with, “Me and my brother were always fighting.”

“Yeah. Always fighting.”

“We wrestled--”

“Raced--”

“Competed--”

“Anything, really--” 

“And wouldn't stop until one of us came out on top.”

“It was usually me.” Tuffnut grinned, thumbing at himself, but Ruffnut socked him in the arm.

“Shut up, liar!” She huffed, then rolled her eyes and continued.

“Anyways, one day we were wrestling--”

“Oh yeah, I was on the ground!”

“Yeah, and I had Tuff's leg in my grip and I was pulling it back!”

“She was really trying to break me.”

“But I kept pulling and nothing was snapping, right?”

“And so I was telling her 'pull harder! Break it!'”

“And I was able to practically press his leg entirely against his back!”

“So she let go of me after that and we got up, completely uninjured.”

“And I let him grab my arm and twist it backwards.”

“And it goes so far, we swore it popped out of its joint but--”

“No. Pain. At all!”

“So we kept pulling and tugging each other's limbs, trying to break  _something_ .”

“But no matter what we did, nothing snapped! I mean, we thought it was weird we never broke anything when we were younger, but this was just insane!”

“So sometimes, when he fought in public, people started thinking we were putting on a show.”

“And that's how we got found my the Ringmaster!”

They both ended with similar hand-waving motions, as if they had just presented a truly riveting topic, and Jack laughed softly, his mind trying to catch up with the back-and-forth of their story-telling.

“Those are some amazing stories,” Jack said kindly, then his eyes flitted over to Hiccup, who was trying to hide behind his mug of ale with nervous eyes, “What about you? How did you first train a dragon?”

“He doesn't tell anyone.” Snotlout huffed, crossing his arms, “Or when he does, it's a different story each time.”

“Yeah, he told me his dad was a dragon, and that he was actually born a hybrid with the ability to speak to them.” Tuffnut said, thumbing towards the blushing auburn man.

“Really? He told  _me_ he had been given as a tribute to a dragon god, and blessed with their powers!” Eret chimed in, making Hiccup fluster even more.

“And he told  _me_ he was actually a wizard, and used magic to control the beasts!” Snotlout added, and Hiccup threw back his head with an annoyed groan.

“So what's the real story?” Jack asked, giving Hiccup an interested look, but the redhead didn't look keen on explaining. Their eyes met for a moment, Jack unable to read the emotion he found there, and then Hiccup was shaking his head.

“It's a long, boring story, honestly. Very unimpressive.” He said defensively, passing his mug back to Snotlout so the man could refill it. Jack looked disheartened, but he didn't press it.

“You are all so lucky to have realized these talents...” Jack decided to say, hoping to distract the others from Hiccup's avoidance, “What I wouldn't give to discover a skill myself.”

The group looked flattered, but only Eret was the one who said, “Well, everyone has a skill! Can't you think of  _any_ talents you posses?”

Jack's magic briefly flitted through his mind, but he was quick to forget it. The Royal family were all blessed with basic ice magic—aside from Pitch, of course, who manipulated the shadows—and the scepters they received were made to help control those powers and emphasize them, but Jack didn't think revealing these abilities would be good for him. Even if they were nomadic, Jack was  _sure_ they could recognize royal magic when they saw it.

But it seemed his features betrayed his words when he refused, because he immediately noticed the doubtful gazes he was receiving from everyone, including Hiccup.

“...What?” He asked in a panic, and Snotlout leaned forward with a wide grin.

“We saw that look. You know of something, don't you?” He pressed, leaning over to shove at Jack's shoulder.

“Show us!” Both Tuffnut and Ruffnut chimed, hopping in their seats excitedly.

“He doesn't have to,” Hiccup sighed, trying to pacify the others, but then those glittering green eyes were on Jack and he said in a hopeful voice, “But we would love to see it.”

That gaze was what got him, and with a dramatic sigh, Jack grumbled out a sharp, “Fine!”

He didn't miss the way his heart jumped when he saw Hiccup's smile grow.

Jack eyed the group anxiously, then turned to look at Hiccup. Extending his hand, he said to the redhead, “Give me your hand.”

Eager to comply, Hiccup placed his hand upon Jack's, and Jack was struck by how warm he was. He could feel those same callouses he felt in the show, and he brushed his fingers over them for a second before regaining his mind. Jack closed his eyes and took in a long breath, focusing on the warm skin of the other's hand.

With an exhale came his magic, and it shot fern-like stems of ice up Hiccup's hand and across his arm, ending right at the elbow. The redhead yelped in surprise, jolting back for a second with wide eyes, but the ice began to melt right when they lost contact. The group gasped in unison, and Hiccup shook off the rest of the melting ice with a few firm shakes before he looked to Jack.

“That was amazing!” Eret cried, clapping his hands together, “Where have you learned such magic?”

“You must be a wizard!” Snotlout declared, and Jack felt even more flustered.

“N-No, it was just—I was just—It's an illusion!” He decided, raising his voice above the others, “That's why I didn't think it was a talent... It was just a trick.”

The others thought about his words for a while, glancing at one another before ultimately shrugging.

“It was a very good trick, then! You have a skill for slight of hand.” Eret commended, and Jack felt his cheeks heat at the compliment. Even Hiccup patted his shoulder and agreed.

“It felt real, I'd say.” He reassured Jack, “You should practice with it some more. Perhaps you could even find yourself in our circus.”

“What an amazing dream that would be.” Jack sighed, thinking wistfully of what it would be like to be seen by everyone as who he truly was, and to work alongside the Dragon Tamer.

“Hiccup is right! You should talk to our Ringmaster about it.” Snotlout suggested, rolling his shoulders, “You don't have a profession, do you?”

“Well, no, but I can't really leave Castle Town. I have a responsibility. Honestly, I should really head back before...” Jack looked to the sky, then felt his heart drop when he recognized the slowly changing hue of the sky, indicating sunrise was upon them. The others seemed to realize what was going on by the time Jack startled to his feet, cursing under his breath.

He paused his panic for a moment to face the others, saying in a sincere voice, “I truly appreciated your performances and your company, but I must be gone! If they find I am missing by sunrise--” He didn't finish his sentence, and began running back to where the path was so he could make his way back to his bedroom in the castle.

However, he barely made ten paces before his arm was grabbed, and that delightful voice of the Dragon Tamer was begging him to, “Wait! Wait a second!”

He turned to face Hiccup, and the sudden urge to stay overwhelmed the prince, but he didn't give in. Hiccup licked his lips anxiously, trying to search for something to say, and when Jack attempted to pull away, he clutched at him tighter and blurted out, “I wish to see you again. Tomorrow night. Please?”

Jack hesitated at the request. He was almost about to blurt out a definite yes, but could he really sneak out two nights in a row? He didn't think it possible, but the urge to see Hiccup again was strong. Looked into those pleading green eyes, Jack swallowed hard and nodded, then said, “We'll... meet by the town gate at nightfall.”

“Okay... And if you don't come I'll sniff you out with my dragons.” Hiccup threatened lightly, getting a blush and a laugh from the prince.

“Agreed.” He whispered, touching Hiccup's hand gently before turning tail and running again. Hiccup let him go this time, feeling lightheaded but happy, and Jack could hear as he ran the others laughing and taunting Hiccup.

“Hiccup Horrendous, tamer of dragons, found yourself a wild one, didn't you?” Eret called out, followed by a rather obvious noise of pain when Hiccup punched him.

Jack rushed back to the castle, unable to stop and enjoy the forest in the morning, and he slipped through the town gates just in time to see the people beginning to stir. In a half hour, his chambermaid will be coming in to wake him, and Jack picked up the pace.

He was sure he was catching the attention of the others, but that didn't slow him. He ran faster still, then began to scale the wall of a building near the castle so he could travel across the rooftops. As he was making his way onto the castle grounds, the guards were making their rounds, and Jack had to step lightly to avoid their gazes.

He was almost at his window when he heard a loud gasp. Spinning around, Jack noticed a maid looking up at him, a tray of food in her hands. She opened her mouth to say something, so Jack quickly tugged off his hood and shook his head, gesturing for her to be silent, then pressing both palms together in a pleading motion. She blinked a few times, recognizing him to be the prince, then she put on a very stern look and placed a hand on her hip.

Jack rolled his head back for a moment, then pouted at her and shrugged his shoulders. Her brows raised, and she lifted her skirt so he could see her tapping her foot, then she gestured for him to hurry up. He mouthed 'thank you' to her, blew her a kiss, then slipped inside his bedchambers. He had just enough time to change into his nightgown and slip into bed before his chambermaid came bursting in.

The maid, luckily, kept quiet, as for the rest of the morning, no one spoke word of Jack's night outside of Castle Town.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im loving them comments yo <3


	5. Jack and Hiccup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> early update cause i grow impatient

Jack had been so star struck by the performance the night before that he found his mind wandering throughout the day. Even in his lessons, Jack's mind drifted back to the amazing performances and the performers—especially Hiccup. The red-headed man was the prominent thought in Jack's head. He couldn't focus no matter how many times Pitch yelled at him.

Like they had agreed to, Jack began to prepare for another night out. He was in the middle of throwing together his 'peasant' clothes when the door to his bedroom suddenly swung open. Jumping in surprise, Jack threw the clothes back into his wardrobe and slammed it shut, spinning around to find Pitch stepping into his room.

The air between them was tense, as it must have been all day. Jack never did properly apologize for what he had said to Pitch two nights ago, and if Jack's head hadn't been in the clouds all day, the uncertainty between them would have been obvious. Feeling suddenly self-conscious, Jack crossed his arms over his chest and lowered his eyes, leaning back against the wardrobe he had slammed shut.

“Jack,” Pitch breathed, stepping in entirely and softly closing the door behind him. He tugged at his cape a little, letting it hang shut from his shoulders, and his eyes drifted along the stone floor. His voice was gentle as he requested, “If you have the time, I'd... like to talk to you.”

Jack glanced up at his half-brother, uncertain of the request. Glancing towards the window, he saw the sun was still descending. He still had time before meeting Hiccup...

Looking back to Pitch, Jack sighed through his nose, then nodded, saying in a somewhat rough voice, “What is it?”

Pitch watched him for a moment, then glanced around before grabbing the chair at Jack's vanity and spinning it around, sitting down on it almost delicately. Gesturing towards the bed, he silently requested Jack to sit, and after a moment of silent deliberation, he walked around his bed and sat, though he kept a good distance between them.

“Jack,” He began again, a nervous waver discreet in his voice, but he swallowed it down and continued on with a level tone, “I want to talk to you about what we... discussed the other night.”

Jack nearly snorted at him. Of course he would refuse to call it what it was—a fight. Still, he kept quiet and allowed Pitch to continue.

“I request that you just listen to what I have to say. Please.” He said, and Jack's eyes wandered up to his brother once more, his brows knitting together in semi-surprise. Silently, Jack gave him a nod, and Pitch let out a sigh and went on, “I know you feel as though I care about nothing but your lessons... but it's not true. I push these lessons on you so fervently _because_ I care about you—all of you.”

Shifting in his seat, Pitch leaned forward a little, maintaining eye-contact with Jack as he said, “All of these things I teach you, I do because they truly will make you a great king. Our father had taught me these things when I was younger, before you were born, in hopes that in the case of him not having another son, I would still be able to carry the kingdom on my shoulders, working beneath whatever Queen he may bear. But I must past my knowledge onto you because I cannot take the throne. I know how to run the kingdom, Jack... but if you don't... I fear you may be killed by the people. Even when you are King, you will not be immune to the wrath of the commoners. One foul move and they  _will_ come for your head, and I don't want that to happen. You mean... so much to me, Jack.”

He extended a hand, able to brush his fingers against Jack's cheek, and getting a faint flush in return. Jack's eyes were wide and surprised, and Pitch knew his words had touched him. Scooting closer to him, Pitch rested his hand on Jack's knee, instead, and whispered to him, “You will make a good King one day, Jack. But I want to do all I can to make you a great one. Please, let me teach you. It's... the only way I know how to help.”

Letting out a slow breath, Jack lowered his head to look at where Pitch's hand rested, his mind reeling with what he had just been told. His chest constricted uncomfortably, filled with both guilt and appreciation, and with a deep sigh, he placed his hand on top of Pitch's. He could feel his half-brother flinch at the touch, but he didn't pull away.

“Can I tell you the truth?” Jack whispered, looking up at Pitch through his lashes, and feeling relieved when Pitch gave him a serious nod in return. Taking in another deep breath to gain his courage, Jack closed his eyes and said, “I'm... terrified.”

“Oh, Jack,” Pitch clicked his tongue, getting up from the chair he sat on and placing himself right beside the young Prince, so close that their knees bumped against each other, and he ran a caring hand through his hair, “You needn't be afraid.”

“But I am,” Jack insisted, looking up at Pitch, a little taken aback at how close he came, but he didn't move away from his touch—it was rare enough to get a tender touch like this from him, anyhow. “You're older than I am, Pitch. You're more mature. I'm still a teenager, and I know it may be years until I take the throne, but... I can't help but feel like I'm just... not ready. I don't think I ever will be.”

Pitch sighed at his words, but before he could come up with a reply, Jack continued stiffly, saying, “You and I both know I'm not a mature man... And I can't ever imagine being like you, much less like our Father. I don't think I can take on such a huge responsibility that is running a kingdom. I don't even think I  _want_ it.”

Looking up at the older man once more, Jack laced their fingers together and squeezed Pitch's hand, suddenly looking determined. Earnestly, Jack said, “Take the throne, Pitch. When Father dies, you can have it. I won't fight you for it—I promise. You're the eldest son, anyways. You deserve it.”

“Jack--” Pitch began to refuse, but Jack threw his arms around the man and held him tight, silencing him with both the surprise action and the physical contact.

“Please, Pitch. I can't run a kingdom...” He begged, tightening his grip in Pitch's cape as he buried his face against his shoulder. He could hear Pitch's heart from here, and it was pounding for some reason. Jack assumed it must be from the prospect of being King. The excitement would get to Pitch, of course. This was, after all, what he had been craving to do.

Still, Pitch set a hand on Jack's shoulder and pushed him away gently, looking into his eyes. Jack saw the hopeful glimmer in his brother's golden irises, and something else shimmering in the torchlight, but with a shaky voice, Pitch refused.

“I can't take the throne, Jack. I can't accept your offer.”

Jack felt his shoulders sag with the weight of his future, and his chest ached once more in disappointment. Before he could wallow in it, though, Pitch's fingers brushed under his chin, lifting his head so they could look at each other once more.

“But I believe in you, Jack. I believe you will be a fantastic king for our people. And I would love to spend my life as your Royal Consultant.” Pitch said kindly, setting both of his hands on Jack's shoulders and squeezing, “You needn't fear of our future. Just study a little more, pay attention during our lessons, and I know you will prevail.”

Giving Pitch a weak half-smile, Jack scoffed and mumbled, “I won't make any promises,” and was happy when Pitch responded with a deep chuckle. Squeezing his shoulders again, Pitch smiled down at him, then suddenly leaned in and placed a light kiss on Jack's cheek, thoroughly surprising the Prince.

“I love you, Jack.” Pitch found himself whispering before he could stop himself, and after a brief moment of panic, he added, “And I believe in you.”

Smiling, Jack pulling Pitch into one more, loose hug, whispering back, “I love you, too, Pitch.”

Jack would have loved to stay in Pitch's arms for a long while, enjoying the comfort that came from such a rare gesture, but then Pitch was struggling out of his grip, clearing his throat and coughing uncomfortably.

“Alright, alright, that's enough of that now,” He said quickly, pushing Jack away with a firm grip on his shoulders before he got to his feet, clearing his throat a few more times and straightening out his cloak, tugging it closed around him. When he was suitably distanced from Jack, he let out a soft sigh, then smiled at him as softly as he could.

“How about we make a deal, Jack?” Pitch offered, getting a curious look from his half-brother. When Jack didn't respond immediately, Pitch merely continued, gesturing vaguely with his hand, “If you promise to focus on your studies—and I mean  _really_ focus—and you behave when His Majesty and his children come to visit... I'll take you out of the Kingdom for a day.”

Jack's eyes bulged at the offer, and he leapt to his feet with an excited gasp.

“Really?” He asked, his heart racing already, “You promise?”

Unable to help the soft chuckle that came from his chest, Pitch nodded and smiled, making sure they kept their distance, “Yes, I promise. But only if you promise to hold up your end of the deal.”

Jack barely even waited for him to finish before he began to agree, practically shouting, “Yes! Yes, I promise, Pitch! I promise I'll be good!” and he wanted to throw his arms around the older man, but he knew if he touched him without his permission, he would be scolded instead. So instead, he bowed deeply to him, and thanked him earnestly for the agreement. Pitch smiled wider, then carefully ran his fingers through Jack's hair, getting those brown eyes to flit up to him once more, excitement and adoration obvious in his gaze.

Pitch stared down at him for a time, his hand slowly going down the back of Jack's head, until it was resting at the base of his neck. Jack's eyes didn't wander away, meeting Pitch's in slight curiosity. Pitch's fingers pressed against his neck, and Jack asked in a soft voice, “Pitch...?”

The older man sucked in a slow breath, then said, “Dear... I'm falling asleep on my feet, aren't I? Well, I'm going to call it a night.” and he pulled away from Jack once again, “Get your rest, Jack. You have a long day of lessons tomorrow to make up for your lack of attention today.”

Jack let out a light huff, but tried not to groan too much about it. He had promised, after all, and he wanted to make Pitch proud of him. With a dismayed nod, Jack murmured, “Fine... good night.”

“Good night.” Pitch replied softly, opening the bedroom door once more and slipping out, a smile still on his lips. When the door shut behind him, Jack settled back down on his bed, his thoughts racing. He barely even paid any attention when his chambermaid came in and dressed him for bed, tucking him into bed and bidding him good night. Jack stayed laying there for a long while, wondering if he should even go out tonight.

With a snort, he gets up from the bed and shoves the pillow and scepter beneath the blankets instead, tugging on his commoner clothes and opening the window. If Pitch didn't catch him last time, what were the chances he'd catch him this time?

With a light laugh, Jack found himself escaping the castle grounds once more, slipping past the guards wandering the town and avoiding the brothels like the plague. When he reached the town gate, he was surprised to see Hiccup standing just beyond the treeline with a lantern in hand. Jack took in a slow breath at seeing him again, and he felt his chest thump when Hiccup gave him a sideways smile.

He eagerly ran up to the man, and Hiccup smiled a bit more, extending his hand to him. Taking it in his own, Jack allowed Hiccup to lead him away from the town, and deeper into the forest.

“Where are you taking me?” Jack asked him, keeping their fingers intertwined as Hiccup walked expertly through the trees. Jack had to duck and weave, unused to the thick forest, especially now that they had strayed from the path.

“You'll see,” Hiccup said over his shoulder, a grin tugging at his lips that made Jack feel weak, and the redhead turned back to face where he was walking, holding up the lantern a bit higher.

They walked along in a comfortable silence, Jack's panting breath the only thing taking up the space around them, and when they finally came to a clearing, Jack felt his breath being stolen once again. Before them was a large lake, glittering a dark, inky black in the moonlight. A river connected to the lake, traveling even deeper into the forest, disappearing behind the trees. The water surface rippled with movement beneath its surface, kissing the lake shore in a lingering tempo.

Hiccup hung the lantern on a branch, its flickering light illuminating the space around them dimly, and he watched as Jack crept forward to the water, his eyes alight with wonder. With a small laugh, Hiccup said, “You're acting like you've never seen the lake before. Surely you have been outside of your town, haven't you?”

“No... not really.” Jack replied softly, getting down on his knees and running his fingers over the water. He laughed softly at the coldness of it, then he turned to look at Hiccup, who was just watching him in interest.

“So you've never been to the lake before?” Hiccup clarified, raising a brow and slowly walking towards the man, his arms crossed over his chest. Jack shook his head, getting back to his feet and shaking the water off of his fingertips. Hiccup smiled a bit, looking almost devious, and he began to tug his shirt over his head.

Startled, Jack's eyes widened as he watched Hiccup strip before him, and with a panicked voice he asked, “What... are you doing?”

“Well,” Hiccup said with a huff, tossing his shirt to the ground before he began to undo his pants, “You haven't been to a lake before. I find that extremely terrible, knowing that you have never played in the water as a child. So, I'm here to fix that.” His pants dropped, and Jack sucked in a sharp breath and looked skyward, his cheeks bright red.

“Strip,” Came Hiccup's command, and Jack's wide eyes shot back down to him, aghast at his word.

“Excuse me?” He gasped, and Hiccup couldn't help but laugh at his reaction.

“Strip!” He said again, and Jack clutched tightly to his clothes. A determined look glowed in Hiccup's eyes, and he said in a strong voice, “If I can tame a dragon, I can get you to strip, Jack. So don't test me.”

“I'm not taking off my—Hiccup, wait!” Jack all but shrieked, clawing at the air as the redhead shoved him backwards into the lake. The water splashed noisily as Jack fell into it, his clothes already soaking by the time he was able to sit up.

“Thank you, Thank you,” Hiccup said to an invisible audience, taking a bow, “I call that trick: The Waterfall.”

“I'll show you 'waterfall'!” Jack huffed, rising up on his knees and wrapping his arms around Hiccup's waist, tugging him into the lake right beside him. The dragon tamer gasped and clutched at Jack, then yelped when his bare skin hit the water. Sitting upright with a gasp, Hiccup had to push his hair back from his face so he could open his eyes. Looking up at Jack, Hiccup let out another shriek of laughter when Jack tackled him back down into the water.

They wrestled in the shallow part of the lake for a short while, splashing one another until they were both soaked to the bone, and when they finally pulled away from the skirmish, they laid side by side, panting. A few more minutes of wordless gasping, and Jack sat upright so he could begin tugging off his clothes. When Hiccup saw him peeling off bit by bit, he smiled to himself and said cockily, “Told you I would get you to strip.”

Jack looked down at Hiccup with a glare, then shoved more water at the boy before he got up to remove his pants. He threw his soaked clothes onto the dirt beside Hiccup's, then kicked off his shoes and threw those away as well. Hiccup got up to his feet and walked deeper into the lake, not stopping until the water reached his waist. Jack watched him for a little, then quickly followed him in, stopping just beside him.

“What are you doing?” He asked, shivering a little from the cold, as was Hiccup. The redhead didn't seem too worried, though, and he hunched over, sticking both hands into the water. Jack watched him do this, unsure if he should say anything that might break his concentration.

All at once, Hiccup stood up straight, throwing his hands into the air. In his grasp was a small river fish, wriggling in a panic. Jack's eyes widened at the catch, his mouth flopping for a moment before he asked, “How did you--?!”

“Living with dragons has its ups.” Hiccup said with a shrug, tossing the fish to Jack, who grimaced and slapped it away. The fish dropped back into the water and swam away before Jack could even realize what he had done. Hiccup began to laugh before Jack could even begin to blabber out an apology.

“C'mon, I'll catch another one. They might be small but they're very tasty when cooked right.” Hiccup said, slapping Jack in the shoulder joyfully before he hunched down and stuck his hands back into the water.

Jack watched him for a little, then pursed his lips and hunched down thrusting his hands into the water as well. He stuck out his tongue in concentration as he tried to catch a fish, but he couldn't even see past the surface of the lake.

“How do you do this?” He whispered to Hiccup, who smiled a little as he continued to fish.

“Keep your hands still,” He whispered back, keeping his eyes on the water, “These fish are very friendly, they'll nibble on your fingers. When one gets close enough, just...--” his arms moved, and he pulled another fish out of the water, holding it up with a smile. Jack stared at him in surprise, then looked back to the water with fresh determination.

Sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, Jack waited for the fish to come. He could feel the scales of the small fish skitter past his fingers, the fins fluttering by, and then the gentle suckling on the tips of his fingers. With a grunt, Jack slapped his hands together and pulled them out of the water. He felt the fish flopping between his hands, and he let out a victorious shout. Hiccup looked at him with a grin, laughing a little and nodding.

“Beginner's luck,” He teased, taking the fish from him and going towards the shore. Jack followed him eagerly, watching as Hiccup pulled a knife from one of his boots and began gutting the fish.

“Hey, can you build a small fire so we can cook these guys?” Hiccup asked, glancing at Jack before he went back to work on the fish. Jack pressed his lips into a line at the request, then hummed and glanced around, unsure of where to start.

Fire needed wood, Jack soon decided, and he headed for the treeline. He looked around for a while, completely lost on what to look for, and eventually he began to pluck twigs from the ground. When he had a bundle, he headed back for the lake, seeing Hiccup spearing the fish on twigs himself.

“I got, um... wood.” Jack said, putting the bundle down between them, and it took Hiccup all but a second to look at it before he snorted and began to laugh.

“Jack, we want a fire, not a kindling.” He teased, and when Jack only looked embarrassed, Hiccup rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Don't worry—I have a backup plan.”

Clearing his throat, Hiccup cupped his hands around his mouth and let out a strong howl into the sky. A few moments passed before another howl came, distant and echoing. Hiccup smiled a little, then said to Jack, “Count to ten and don't freak out.”

“....Why?” Jack asked, his eyes narrowing in concern, but Hiccup merely laughed and shook his head, insisting for him to start counting. Letting out a sigh, Jack began to count, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Four... Five...” He continued, letting his head roll to the side. He began to notice the wind pick up, but he continued to count. Two more seconds later, and he heard a distinct flapping noise. He looked up to the sky, expecting to see a dragon, and his heart jumped when he saw a shadow flying towards them.

“Eight... Nine...” Jack gasped, a knowing smile coming to his lips as the shadow drew closer, but then his brows rose when he realized that the size of the shadow wasn't changing. He was about to say ten, but he didn't even get to draw in another breath before a dragon the size of a toddler collided with his face, knocking him onto the ground and immediately licking him. With a pleased chirp, the dragon got to its feet and sniffed Jack all over, then growled in disappointment when it couldn't find a reliable scent on him.

“There you are!” Hiccup cooed, getting the little dragon's attention immediately, and the beast chirped and hopped over to the redhead, getting a rewarding head-scratch for his obedience, “Hello little guy! Jack, I want you to meet Toothless! He's my best friend.”

“He just tried to eat me!” Jack wheezed, wiping the dragon spit from his face.

“Oh, don't take it to heart. He was just being protective. He likes to think he's the baddest thing around.” Hiccup teased, then gave a few gentle purrs to the beast, who chirped in return before it shot into the forest. Jack watched it go, then turned to look at Hiccup again, who was now trying to brush the last of the water from his hair with his fingers.

“What's he doing?” Jack asked, gesturing towards the forest where the dragon vanished to.

“He's gathering firewood. Properly.” Hiccup said with a shrug, then looked up at Jack with a concerned expression, “I've never met a guy who hadn't seen a lake  _or_ know how to make a proper fire before... What did you say you did again?”

“O-oh! Uh... just...--” Jack stammered, struggling for a proper lie, but he didn't have to think for too long, luckily. Before he could think of something and stick to it, Toothless returned with a hefty bundle of wood in his mouth, which he dropped in front of his trainer.

“Thank you, bud,” Hiccup said kindly, giving the little dragon a scratch beneath his chin. The beast purred loudly, then turned to the pile of wood and shot a blast of fire at it, lighting it with ease. Jack made a surprised noise, then decided sit down beside it, cringing a little at the way the pebbles pressed against his bare bottom, but he didn't complain. Hiccup had been kneeling in them ever since they caught the fish, so he figured he didn't have the right to.

Hiccup set up a few sticks to stand upright in the rocks, then balanced the fish atop them, letting them cook in the small fire.

“Do you like it out here?” Hiccup asked softly as he, too, settled back on the pebbles, bringing his knees to his chest and crossing his arms over them. He didn't even wince, and Jack admired his tolerance.

“It's very pretty,” Jack admitted, stretching out his legs and leaning back on his hands, admiring the lake once more, “I never thought the moon would look so beautiful in the water. I'm truly happy you brought me here to see it...”

He looked over at the other, intending to smile at him, but when he saw bright green eyes staring wide at him, he felt his heart halt. Frowning, Jack's shoulders hunched a little before he asked, “What?”

“Nothing,” Hiccup said quickly, shaking his head, but not his gaze. A moment of tense silence passed between them, until Hiccup sighed and finally looked away, staring down at the rocks beneath them instead, “It's just... The way you speak, sometimes...”

“What about that?” Jack pressed, feeling caught and insulted at the same time. Hiccup glanced at him again, looking just as caught, then shook his head and turned his eyes skyward instead, before closing them.

With a light breath in, his chest expanded, and his adam's apple bobbed with a light swallow. Jack found he had to swallow too as he watched, his eyes tracing the way the moonlight cut down the edge of Hiccup's form. He wanted to follow that line with his fingers... if not his own lips.

Catching his thoughts, Jack turned his head away.

“When you speak like that, I feel... something.” Hiccup petered off, keeping his eyes shut, “Amused at first, because what kind of commoner speaks like that? And then...” With a sigh, his eyes opened halfway, looking out to the water, “... I don't know.”

Jack's eyes slid back towards Hiccup, a sudden wave of bravery coming over the Prince.

“Well...” Jack whispered, bringing his own knees up to his chest, “does it feel... good?”

Hiccup shrugged his shoulders, bringing his chin down to rest on his arms, and mumbled slyly, “Maybe.”

Jack laughed a little, then perked up when Hiccup reached towards the fish, turning them over the fire.

“They should be done soon.” He said, leaning back again and looking at Jack. The Prince hummed softly, reaching out to poke on of the cooking fish, and he grimaced a little at the texture of the scales.

“Don't tell me you've never had fish before!” Hiccup scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Oh, hush! I've had fish before! I've just... never seen the process.” He admitted, turning a little red. Tonight really seemed like a night of discovering just how much Jack  _didn't_ know about the world. Well, to his defense, Pitch had never offered to teach him cooking in the first place. Though it wasn't exactly the king's duty to cook.

“You don't know how to cook, you don't know how to collect wood,” Hiccup teased, tilting his head, “What do you know?”

“I can play the lute.” Jack decided to say with a shrug, “Can you do that, dragon boy?”

Hiccup's face pinched up, and he blurted out, “What's a lute?”

Raising a surprised brow, Jack's eyes glittered in mischief, but then Hiccup burst out laughing instead, clutching his stomach.

“Okay, fine, you got me,” He giggled, reaching towards the fish to test them, then taking them off the fire and handing one to Jack, “You can play the lute. Will you play it for me sometime?”

“Only if you show me another dragon trick sometime.” Jack offered, and Hiccup gave him a wide grin.

“You only like me for my dragons, don't you?” He teased, and Jack couldn't help but scoff.

“You only like me for my lute. And my dashing good looks.” Jack added, jutting his chin into the air in a flourish, but he glowered playfully when Hiccup let out a guffaw.

“Please! You've been staring at  _me_ all night!” He joked, crossing his arms over his chest, “Only a fool would look your way!”

“Then call yourself it, for you have been gazing at me all night long!” Jack claimed, getting to his feet and pointing his fish-stick at Hiccup, who gasped as if he had been scandalized.

Too hungry to continue playing, Hiccup rolled his eyes and shook his head, saying to Jack, “Sit down, you fool. Eat with me.”

Jack smiled calmly and did as told, watching as Hiccup took the first bite out of his fish. He had braved through even the scales, something that still made Jack's skin crawl. And yet, Jack found himself bringing the fish closer to his lips, and soon enough his teeth were sinking into the flesh, pulling away with a fantastic taste exploding on his lips—granted he had to ignore the texture.

“Do you like it?” Hiccup asked, and Jack hummed pleasantly and nodded. Hiccup smiled—truly appreciative—and he continued to say, “When I was younger, I ate fish practically every night. My father was the best at making Icelandic Cod... He never got to teach me how he did it, but he would make the flavor explode so suddenly in your mouth that you couldn't hesitate to get seconds...”

Jack slowed his eating, looking at Hiccup silently, and when the redhead didn't continue, he asked him, “What was your childhood like?”

“Hmm?” Hiccup turned to look at him, looking as though he had been in his own thoughts. Jack turned a little so he was sitting towards the other, his knees still against his chest as the fire warmed his front.

“Your childhood?” He asked again, “How did you come upon the Wandering Circus as a Dragon Tamer?”

“It's a long story, my friend... long and sad.” Hiccup sighed, turning the fish around on the stick, and only looking up when he realized Jack was still staring at him. The Prince smiled encouragingly, then nodded for him to continue. When Hiccup still looked doubtful, the Prince pursed his lips in a pout, then looked skyward dramatically.

“I only see the moon in the sky, and not one ray of sunlight dares to slip through the trees.” He said poetically, arching his hand through the air gracefully, then smirking at the wide-eyed stare he got from the redhead across from him. “What I mean is, the night is young. And so are we. I wish to know more of you. You interest me... truly.”

Even in the light of flame, Jack could see Hiccup's cheeks flush, and the man smiled to himself for a moment before finally bobbing his head in agreement.

“Okay...” He sighed, shaking his head, “But be prepared to listen. I don't appreciate interruptions.”

“Yes, My Lord.” Jack flirted lightly, getting comfortable where he sat and eating his fish in rapture as Hiccup began.

“I was a proud member of one of the last Viking Tribes to travel the seas. We were a small bunch, but we were just as fearless as the tales of old. My father was the leader, and he was a man of absolute bulk and fury. They said when he was a mere babe, he broke a stone in two with his head. He had killed more dragon than the rest of the tribe combined! He was a true warrior, and the man everyone looked up to.

“But our ways of fighting were dated. Our way of life was long forgotten. We devolved from a tribe of fierce, fearless warriors... to a nomadic tribe, begging for coin. One by one, the people of my tribe withered, until all was left was myself. My father had done all he could to keep me alive, but when he, too, passed, I knew I wouldn't last much longer for the world.

“Still, I did what I could to survive. I was a small child—much smaller than I am now, surprisingly—and I used that advantage to steal and con others out of their purse and food. I lived day-by-day, never staying too long in one town, but one night I got lost.

“Deep inside of the woods, I had lost my way. The path had left me, and I turned and twisted all I could to find it, but it eluded me. I could hear monsters beginning to wake as the night went on, and I was certain I was being followed. I looked over my shoulder constantly, expecting each time to see a face or beast standing right behind me, but I found I was still alone. Finally, the panic became too great for me, and I broke down crying amongst the leaves.

“And that was when I saw the beast following me.” Hiccup looked to Toothless, who had curled up by the fire and had fallen asleep, his small chest rising and falling at a quick pace. Jack glanced his way as well, then smiled contently before Hiccup continued.

“The silly creature tried to intimidate me. I was afraid at first, until I realized he was lost, too. The first cry of a nearby wolf had us both trembling, and I guess we decided it would be best if we stuck together.

“Luckily for me, I wasn't terribly useless. I found out that while Toothless had flight and fire-breathing, he was a terrible hunter, especially with larger animals. I wasn't much of a fighter myself, but I had wits, and we were able to come up with various traps to catch ourselves dinner. He also had a particular fondness for fish, which I was great at catching.

“We lived in the forest for a long while, never really caring to find the way out when we realized we were doing just fine together. Due to our solitude, I was able to understand the language he spoke. They're intelligent creatures, Jack, truly. They're just hard to listen to sometimes.

“Anyways, Toothless and I became very close friends through our trials, and it wasn't until we came across a broken down cart that our friendship would be recognized by others. The rider of the cart was none other than the Ringmaster of the Wandering Circus, and he called upon me for help when he saw me.

“Of course, my heart bled for him. My father had always told me my heart was big enough to fit the poor and sick. I begged Toothless to help me feed him, and the Ringmaster must have seen the way I spoke to him, because not long after we caught him dinner, he inquired about my relationship with the beast.

“After a brief explanation and a quick example of mine and Toothless' communication, he offered me a part in their circus as the Dragon Tamer, promising me glory and riches above all else. He offered me everything a man would want, but...

“But when I looked in Toothless' eyes, I saw trepidation and fear. Fear that I would leave him behind, fear that he would be forgotten and lost once again. And while I was used to a nomadic lifestyle I still longed for a place to call my home again. With that in mind, I made a promise to Toothless, that as long as he came with me and as long as we were with the circus, that I would never leave him. And I promised him that if I ever changed from the man he had met long ago in the forest, then we would leave upon his request.

“He agreed, and we joined the Circus. We had been with them ever since then, making it... nearly six years, now. And I have met amazing people along the way. So many talented individuals with terrifying and awesome power. All of them with hopes and dreams and...”

He petered off, his face growing sad, and his eyes drooping a little.

“Hiccup...?” Jack whispered, almost afraid to break his silence, as if that was what had kept the redhead going. Hiccup looked at Jack when he heard him call, then smiled apologetically before shaking his head.

“I have seen terrible things as well,” He forced himself to continue, his voice raw and painful, as if he were reliving his memories, “The way people are treated in certain places... the way  _dragons_ are treated. I wanted people to see my show and realize that they are not the beasts to be wary of at night. I wanted people to see me and Toothless and think that the bond between man and dragon was something more powerful than any other bond there is. Something that can be relied upon. Something  _magical._ And yet... I see people leaving my show with hate festering in their hearts. My tricks had amused them, but they still wish they had seen the beasts conquered.”

With a sigh, Hiccup laid back on the pebbles, his head lying close to where Toothless slept, and he brought up a hand to scratch at his scaly back. In a whisper, Hiccup said, “Sometimes... I dream of leaving this place. Of leaving these cruel people behind and taking my dragons with me. I have done a lot of traveling, Jack, and I have seen so many isolated islands I could live on in peace. A place where we can be free of their spiteful words and misguided glares...”

Another sigh fell from his lips, and he closed his eyes. “You must think I'm selfish, wanting such a thing like that.” He mentioned, not daring to look at Jack.

The young Prince thought about it for a moment, then quietly shook his head, knowing the other couldn't see him. He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice was barely audible over the crackling of the flame between them.

“I don't think you're selfish. Not in the slightest.”

Hiccup must have heard him, though, for his eyes opened and rolled over to Jack, and a small, appreciative smile graced his thin lips.

“What about you?” Hiccup asked, surprising Jack once more that night.

“What about me?” Jack asked before he could stop himself, his heart pounding a little at the thought of revealing his true self to the other. No... It was impossible for the dragon tamer to understand. He would merely be ridiculed, if not shamed for hiding his true identity.

“What was your life like? Any interesting stories?” Hiccup pressed, rolling onto his side and tucking an arm beneath his head, smiling at Jack, though the Prince was sure he looked like he had just been told he was to be hanged.

“Um... It's... not worthy of a story, I assure you,” Jack said anxiously, trying to get out of the spotlight, and he turned his head away. Still, Hiccup seemed interested, and he continued to press him.

“Anything you tell me of yourself will be riveting, Jack. I promise you that.” He said softly, and Jack glanced his way before he turned his head again, his cheeks turning rosy. His mind raced for something—anything--to get out of telling him the truth, but the more he felt those green eyes on him, the more he wanted to give in.

A decision was made in his mind, and with a tired sigh, Jack slouched a bit and mumbled, “Fine. But it's boring.”

Hiccup got comfortable where he laid, his face showing that he didn't care if it would be the blandest story he had ever heard, and that he looked forward to it all the same. Jack felt himself smiling a bit regardless of his attitude, and he cleared his throat before he began.

“My family is.... very strict. Um... we have a lot of rules we need to live by. We're only allowed to be in certain places, dressed in certain ways, doing certain things. It's... suffocating, to say the least. I find myself wanting to drive my head into the wall on more than one occasion.

“I guess I'm lucky, though. I know there are others who long to be in the place I am in, and others who would do anything to walk in my shoes... and I fear I may not know what I truly want in the end. All I know is... these last two nights, sneaking out when I'm not supposed to and seeing the Circus—seeing  _you_ ... It's been the most exciting time of my short life.

“I just... want to be out from there. I want to be here, with you and the townspeople and everyone else. I want to be able to know how to gather firewood and fish and what lakes look like in the moonlight. I _want to know..._ but I can't.” Jack felt his voice waver, and he decided he had said enough. Closing his eyes, he drew in his knees closer to himself so he could hide his face in them, his shoulders shaking. He felt like he wanted to cry or shout or somehow get all of the pent up emotion inside of him out, but he wasn't even sure where to begin with it. His mind was a muddled mess, and it was something he couldn't even sort through without breaking down.

Before he realized it, a hand was touching his shoulder, and he could feel Hiccup's bare chest lean against his back. The touch made his heart race so quickly it felt like it had stopped, and yet the gesture made him feel comforted all the same. Hiccup's lips came close to his ear, and he whispered a simple, “It's okay.”

Jack knew Hiccup didn't understand what he had meant. He knew Hiccup would never understand how that kind of responsibility felt on one's shoulders. He knew that Hiccup could never even begin to understand how not okay it all was, how Jack's future was set in stone, and that there was no way the young Prince would ever be happy.

But with those two words, Jack felt at peace.

“Maybe... when I leave to live on that little island with all of my dragons... you can come with me?” Hiccup suggested softly, a smile in his voice that made Jack lift his head from his knees. Looking back into those glittering green eyes, Jack found himself smile as well, and gives a light nod.

“Yeah... I'll come.” He promised, knowing just as much as Hiccup did that it would never happen in this life. Still, the truth was something neither of them wanted to talk about, and they ignored it when Jack asked Hiccup, “Lay with me?”

They reclined on the pebbled ground together, the fire flickering beside them and their clothes drying in the cold night air. They would smell like the lake water in the morning, but neither of them cared. When the air chilled to the point that they shivered, Hiccup rolled over so his back was facing Jack, and he pressed his body against Jack's chest. They curled up against each other, Jack's arms comfortable when they encircled Hiccup's waist and came together at his stomach.

The slept lightly, the cold keeping them awake half the night, and their conversations the other half. It wasn't until the sky began to tint a beautiful purple did Jack realize that he was meant to be back in the castle.

As he got up and tugged on his clothes, Hiccup sat on the pebbles and watched, a frown set deep on his lips.

“Promise me you'll see me again,” Hiccup all but begged, rising up to his knees and clutching at Jack's pants to stop him from running away. Jack looked back on him, his panic at being late obvious on his face, but he waited anyways and thought about it.

“I really have to go,” He said, the words almost cutting his throat as they came out, “I'll... I'll try.”

And before Hiccup could beg any more, Jack freed himself from his grip and took off through the forest, lucky to be able to see the town gate over the tree tops. Hiccup watched him go, a tight pain in his chest, and he felt almost desperate to ensure they see each other just one more night. He found himself planning to wait by the town gates as long as he need to if he had even the slightest chance of seeing the brunet boy he had come to love.

_Love... What a ridiculous notion. I had never believed in love at first sight, but here he was, stealing my breath away. Perhaps it was merely infatuation, or a kind of sick lust I had for him, but... I knew that in time, it would have definitely evolved into something as strong and compelling as love._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> your comments make me happy <3<3<3
> 
> also yes, i went with book toothless cause reasons. but to be fair, i havent read the series completely yet.


	6. Festival Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's a chapter *drops*
> 
> Please comment! You guys don't know how much those comments keep me going!
> 
> Alternate Chapter Title: Hiccup's a huge doucher

Jack thought himself lucky he hadn't been caught. He had slipped in through his bedroom window a mere ten minutes before he was to be awaken, and he had shed himself of his still semi-damp clothes and kicked them under the bed before he tugged on a fresh nightgown. Slipping beneath the sheets, Jack had feigned sleep well enough for his chambermaid to actively attempt to roll him out of bed, scoffing at him when he complained that he hadn't slept well.

The typical morning routine was interrupted mid-dress, however, when Pitch came in a half an hour earlier, already dressed and preened for the day.

“Jack,” He called out softly as he opened the door, then pausing when he saw the chambermaid only just tugging the Prince's clothes on. Jack looked through the mirror's reflection at his half-brother, a curious look on his face. Pitch cleared his throat and continued, “I'd like to invite you to eat breakfast with me. It's been much too long since we've sat down and ate together. Perhaps you'd like to eat in my room?”

“Breakfast?” Was all Jack could say before the chambermaid shoved a shirt over his head, muffling his voice and speaking over him.

“My Prince already has his breakfast set out, My Lord,” She said anxiously, “Perhaps you will join him here while I finish dressing him?”

Jack struggled to straighten out his tunic before he could pop his head out, and with a huff he pushed the hair from his face. Turning to face Pitch and his chambermaid, he smiled and said, “It's okay, you can have my breakfast. I'll steal some of Pitch's.”

“M-My Lord--” His chambermaid stammered, used to bickering with the young Prince, but unsure of what she should say when Kozmotis was standing nearby, “I couldn't possibly eat your food!”

“Well, toss it away, then. Jack will eat in my room, with me. Alone.” Pitch said, waving a hand in the air almost dismissively, “That is, if you would dress him properly.”

“Of course...” She muttered, her cheeks turning a light red with frustration. Jack rolled his eyes, then went to Pitch and began to push him out of his room.

“Go wait for me, okay? I'll be there in a minute!” He huffed, closing the door on Pitch before he could even scold him, then allowed the chambermaid to wrangle him back in and tackle the mess that was his hair.

A surprisingly quick five minutes later, Jack was walking down the hall towards Pitch's room, dressed and handsome like always. He knocked lightly on Pitch's door, then eagerly opened it before his half-brother could even beckon him inside. He startled the man something fierce, which only made the young Prince chuckle.

Pitch's room was dark and moody, much like the elder Prince himself. The furniture was made of dark wood, varnished and dressed with black, silken clothes. He had a fireplace in his chambers, which was almost always lit, and it stained the stones above it in soot. Pitch was lounging on his favorite roccoco love seat facing the fire, the short table before him heavy with foods and fruits, and even a bottle of wine sitting amongst it.

Jack made his way over with a hop in his step, and he sat beside his brother, leaning back on the arm that stretched out along the back of the seat. He took with him a plate, filling it with various foods that he found tasteful, and ate them quickly.

“So, why the change?” He asked Pitch, who drank his wine almost anxiously as he looked into the fire, “Are you still trying to make up for the whole fight thing?”

“It wasn't a fight.” Were the first words to come flooding from Pitch's mouth, and he glared a little at Jack before he explained, “And I missed eating breakfast with you. Is that such a bad thing?”

Smiling at him, Jack shook his head and leaned a bit more on Pitch, who was surprisingly letting him. Jack would have expected the man to shove him off at this point, but was happily enjoying the closeness for as long as he could get it. He saw Pitch down the rest of his wine, then let out a deep sigh as he set the glass down.

“Jack... There's...” Pitch began, his brows furrowing as he stared into the fire. The younger Prince sat up a little more, watching Pitch in curiosity, and his gaze urged Pitch to continue, “There's something I want from you... Something I... can't have.”

Jack's eyes hardened a little, and he sat up straight, no longer leaning on Pitch. Glancing towards the wine, he asked lightly, “How much did you drink?”

“Enough.” Pitch answered carelessly, turning to look at Jack now, and even though Jack was almost certain Pitch was a bit more than tipsy, the man looked just as collected as ever. He leaned closer to Jack, who leaned away from him, and he said in a low voice, “I truly fear that one day... I might just _take_ it.”

“Pitch--” Jack gasped, his heart pounding in terror, but before his half-brother could make another move, his bedroom door swung open, startling the both of them.

“My Lords, a message--” The young servant boy began to say, but Pitch growled and stood from his seat, glaring the boy down and interrupting him.

“You _dare_ enter my chambers without even the slightest knock?!” He yelled, and the shadows in the corners of his room quivered threateningly. Jack glanced around for a brief moment, realizing Pitch's rage, then stood as well and stepped in front of the man, putting a hand on his chest though he knew full well he wouldn't be able to hold the other back. He looked up at Pitch, catching his attention.

“Speak.” Jack commanded the servant, keeping his eyes on Pitch. He was surprised to realize that somehow, Pitch was restraining his anger. The way his upper lip curled into a scowl and his hands squeezed into fists showed that it was a rather difficult feat, however. The servant babbled for a minute, having to collect their thoughts after nearly being pummeled by the elder prince, and when he caught his breath, he spoke in a squeaky, terrified voice.

“A m-message for you both... from the King, My L-Lords.” He stammered, holding out the silver platter which held a sealed, written letter. Jack glanced over his shoulder at the platter, though when he broke eye contact, he heard Pitch growl again. Turning back to look at his half-brother, Jack pointed sternly to the love seat, silently commanding Pitch to go. The older man glowered at the servant for a moment longer, then huffed and turned away, sitting gracefully back onto the cushion and turning his gaze towards the far wall.

With a sigh, Jack went to the servant and took the letter, an apologetic look on his face, and when he dismissed the boy, he saw him take off down the hall, intent on getting as far from the elder Prince as possible. Closing the bedroom door, Jack turned to glare at Pitch.

“What the hell was that?” He questioned, tearing open the letter and unfolding it so he could read it, “You nearly made the boy soil himself!”

“I don't like people coming into my room uninvited,” Pitch grumbled keeping his gaze turned away, even when Jack sat down on the couch. The young Prince shook his head briefly, muttering under his breath, then began to read the letter before scoffing and giving it to Pitch.

“Father wants you to meet with him,” He said boredly, waving the letter in Pitch's face until the man took it, and when he read over it himself, Pitch sighed and stood.

“It must be about our visitors,” He said, sounding calmer than he had been before, “He shouldn't complain if you accompany me.”

Jack didn't respond immediately, crossing his arms and looking away. Pitch frowned at the display, then sighed once more, running a hand down his tired face.

“Jack, what I did just now--” He began to apologize, but Jack cut him off.

“It's not about what happened with the servant.” He said, his voice tight, “It's about what you said to me, just before that.”

The young Prince turned to look at Pitch, who was actually looking guilty. His eyes dropped to the stone floor as Jack stared at him, and he parted his lips to explain himself, but Jack beat him to it.

“Pitch... I... I don't know what it's like being in your position. I'd like to think I know how you feel. It must be aggravating being the one truly deserving of the throne and not being able to take it just because you're mother wasn't royal. But you can't just take my scepter. It won't work for you.” Jack tried to say gently, and the more he talked on, the more surprised Pitch looked. A moment passed of them looking at each other, and with an uncertain frown, Jack asked, “That's... That's what you were talking about, right?”

“.... Yes.” Pitch breathed, though the way his eyes stayed wide and disbelieving convinced Jack otherwise.

With a frown, Jack narrowed his eyes and began to ask him, “Pitch... what did you want from me?” but he barely got the sentence completed before Pitch grabbed his cloak and threw it on, turning to face Jack and saying in a louder voice.

“Are you coming with me or not?”

They stared each other down, Jack confused and a little scared, and Pitch not wanting to talk about it. Eventually, they reached a silent agreement, and Jack stood.

“Alright.” He said, letting Pitch lead the way.

They walked down the halls of the castle, Jack eyeing Pitch from the back and his mind racing. He wanted to know what he was talking about, but he was sure the elder Prince would never tell him.

He decided it would be left as an unsolved mystery by the time they reached the room their father waited for them in. The large man turned, a surprised look overcoming him when he saw Jack, and he greeted the both of them kindly.

“You must be doing well in your studies if Pitch is letting you tag along!” The King said jovially, clapping a hand down on Jack's shoulder before beaming at Pitch. Before they could hook onto the topic of Jack's education, however, the King cleared his throat and walked away from them, towards a chair set beside an unlit fireplace, “King Bunnymund is expected to arrive either late tonight or early tomorrow morning, and we have yet to arrange for any sort of celebration. However, the servants tell me of a.... group near town, a 'Wandering Circus'.”

Jack's eyes widened and he felt his heart race. He tried to keep his expressions in check, but the King's eyes rested on him for a moment before he smiled.

“Ah, I knew you would like the sound of that, Jack,” He said pleasantly, and Jack found he didn't have to hold back the excited grin, “Pitch, I want you to take with you a small entourage and find this Circus. I want you to speak to the owner and have them stay in town for the entire duration of Bunnymund's visit. We'll have a big performance and town celebration, where they will be the main attraction. I don't care how much you spend, just make sure they stay. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Pitch said softly, bowing his head. Jack pouted a little, looking at Pitch jealously.

“Why does he get to see the Circus?” Jack complained, crossing his arms, “Can't I go, too?”

“Now, Jack, I don't think--” The King began, but Pitch was the one to cut him off, surprising both men in the room.

“I suppose it will do you well to get out of the castle once in a while,” Pitch sighed, giving Jack a sly smile that made the teen's eyes widen.

“You mean it?” Jack gasped, on the verge of jumping out of his skin with the idea of not only seeing the Circus again, but seeing _Hiccup_ again. With a certain nod from Pitch, Jack let out a loud shout in victory, accented with his father's laughter.

“But there will be rules,” Pitch warned him, but Jack didn't even care about that. He just wanted to see Hiccup again.

When their father dismissed them, Pitch sent Jack back to his bedchambers for him to be properly dressed to go out. Pitch had gone to his own chambers to dress himself, as well.

Jack hated the clothes his chambermaid was putting him in, the robes pure white and draping down to his toes, and the veil seated on his head with a silver crown to weight it down. The veil turned Jack's vision into a misty white, turning distant figures into vague shadows, and close ones into blurry blobs. The material looked beautiful draping across his face, he was told multiple times by multiple people, but he tugged at it and fought with it whenever he could.

Finally, his scepter was placed in his hands, and the strange brown that slipped through the semi-transparent veil from his hair turned to snow white, completing the transformation from boy to Prince. He let out a soft breath, the power flooding his body fulfilling and comfortable. He allowed the surge to slip past his fingers, and he frosted his scepter over thickly, making it glitter like crystals.

Moments later, his door opened and Pitch peered inside, dressed in deep black robes and a slightly thinner veil. Jack had to squint to see him properly.

“Ready?” Pitch asked, his voice soft as it should be when veiled. Jack nodded silently, as _he_ should be when wearing the veil. He couldn't see the smile on Pitch's face, but heard it in his voice when he uttered, “Good. The horses are ready, let's go.”

Jack followed Pitch closely, holding his scepter tightly against his chest, as if afraid it was going to be snatched from him at any moment. While they made their way to the courtyard, Jack made it a point to glance Pitch's way constantly, his grip on the scepter growing tighter. The elder Prince noticed, of course, and sighed at the action.

“Jack, please, I'm not going to take your scepter.” Pitch sighed, pausing their walk to face the teen, who took a quick step back to keep from running into him. Jack thought about it for a moment, obviously uncertain, and with a quick movement, he tugged his veil up so he could look at his half brother.

“You said you just wanted to take it.” Jack said, noticing the way Pitch's brow furrowed beneath his veil, and then the elder tugged his own veil out of the way so he could address Jack formally.

“I wasn't myself. I was speaking irrationally. I would be much more comfortable if we just dropped that conversation entirely.” Pitch growled, his voice lined with anger, though his eyes filled with regret. When Jack still looked unsure, Pitch pressed him, “You offered me the throne, Jack, and I turned it down. Even if you were to offer me your scepter with its powers contained, I would turn it down. What I desire will never overtake me, Jack. You needn't fear me.”

Jack stared at his half-brother for a long while, searching his eyes for any hint of a lie, for any hint of a lack of restraint, but when he found none, he felt his shoulders relax. His grip on his scepter loosened, and before Pitch could stop himself, Jack wrapped his arms around the man's middle, hugging him tight.

“You scared me,” Jack admitted in a small voice, letting out a relieved breath and closing his eyes when he felt a hand press on the small of his back, “I thought you were planning to... to...”

“Hush, Jack. You know I would never hurt you.” Pitch whispered to him, slowly rubbing Jack's back through his robes. When he felt the teen further relax against him, he began to pull away, saying gently, “Now, we must be on our way. Besides, aren't you excited?”

Jack let his arms slacken, then slip from Pitch completely as he smiled, “Yes,” He grinned, reaching up to fix his veil while Pitch did the same. Veiled again and prepared to go, they stepped out onto the courtyard where their horses waited for them—a pure white horse for Jack and a jet black stallion for Pitch.

Accompanying them were four guards, two riding in front of them and two behind them, and as they rode through the town, the guards made sure that their path was clear and that they rode undeterred. The people of Castle Town looked upon the princes in awe, a delighted chatter filling the air as they passed, and Jack looked down at their faces in slight interest. They passed too quickly for any of them to leave a lasting impression, though he was sure he recalled the face of the woman from the brothel the night of his first escape.

Before Jack knew it, they were exiting the town and entering the woods. Jack's smile widened on his face—hidden, of course—and he had to resist the urge from raising his hand to the branches above them to feel the leaves. The wind rushing past him would have been nicer had the robes and veil not dull them so much.

“Jack,” Pitch called out to the distracted prince, catching his attention almost immediately, slightly surprised that the man had spoken, though he understood that they were no longer in danger of being heard, “Shall I go over the rules before we get there?”

The younger Prince groaned in annoyance, but didn't refuse. Instead, he merely bobbed his head to show Pitch that he was paying attention.

“First, you are not to utter a word to anyone,” He said sternly, though he wasn't sure if it needed repeated. That rule was always in place when they wore the veil. When Jack nodded, Pitch continued.

“Next, you are not to remove your veil for any reason.” It was an obvious rule, but one that definitely needed stating. He knew Jack was keen to remove the veil whenever he thought he could, and he didn't want any mishaps on this journey. Another nod, and Pitch finished.

“Last, you are not to be without the Royal Guard. At all.” He all but growled, and Jack nodded his head again, though he rolled his eyes beneath the veil. Having the guard there was just for show, in Jack's opinion. He doubted he would ever be in danger in such a place, anyways.

Still, with the rules in place, Jack had to remind himself that he had to be generally good. If he upset Pitch during this outing, he was sure the man would never let him out again. With a sigh, Jack put the thoughts out of his mind, and instead looked forward to seeing the Circus once again.

Riding horseback made the distance between Castle Town to the Wandering Circus' camp surprisingly quick, and soon enough they were arriving on their turf, being greeted by a gasping and chattering crowd. Among them, Jack didn't spot the performers.

“My Lord Prince Kozmotis Pitchiner-Black, half-son of His Majesty, King Nicholas North Frost, Ruler of the Kingdom of Northern Mesa, requests on his behalf to speak with the owner of the Wandering Circus. Step forward now, sir!” A guard announced, silencing the crowd properly. Jack urged Ivory closer to Pitch, his eyes searching the crowd for any sight of the Ringmaster, and then further into the camp for a glimpse of Hiccup.

Though he didn't spy the redheaded tamer he sought, the Ringmaster finally stepped forward, a confused yet interested look on his face.

“And what will we be discussing, if I might ask?” The man questioned, standing in front of the crowd of his workers and crossing his arms. He was addressing Pitch directly, but the man didn't respond. Instead, the guard moved his horse between them, blocking the princes from the ringmaster's sight.

“My Lord Prince Kozmotis Pitchiner-Black will only speak to you in the privacy of your quarters, alone. Do you accept?” The guard replied, his voice thrumming with control over the situation, though the Ringmaster looked unimpressed. The man eyed the princes over the guard's horse curiously, then regarded their company once more.

“Then while we discuss, perhaps 'My Lord',” The words were spoken sarcastically, “ Prince Jackson Overland North will explore our camps freely?”

The guard hesitated, then looked at Pitch for an answer. Before the elder prince could respond with a nod or a shake of his head, Jack was leaning forward eagerly on his horse, nodding his head excitedly. Pitch flinched when Jack began to scramble off of his horse, then tried to grab for him when he planted his feet on the ground. When his hand came back empty, Pitch let out an annoyed sigh and instead shot a look at one of the guards behind him, gesturing heavily to the younger prince who, luckily, was waiting for Pitch's ultimate approval.

Jack looked back at Pitch, pressing his hands together in a pleading motion, and the elder Prince lulled his head before viciously moving his hands and fingers, telling Jack through hand signs that if he forgot any of the rules, he would be murdered by Pitch himself. Jack pressed a hand against his veil, laughing under his breath, then nodded in confirmation. He grinned to himself when Pitch looked at the Ringmaster and nodded, and the guard Pitch originally indicated to dropped down from his own horse and went to Jack's side, spear in hand.

“Fantastic.” The Ringmaster grinned, clasping his hands together, “Then please, My Lord, join me in my tents, and we will discuss what it is that you have come for.”

Pitch sighed and lowered himself gracefully from his horse, bringing with him another one of the guards. They followed the Ringmaster towards the tents, and Pitch cast one more warning glance at Jack before they disappeared. Two of the guards stood in charge of the horses, keeping them in place for the Prince's return.

The crowd slowly dispersed, some of them still eyeing the younger Prince in curiosity, but Jack didn't mind them as he started forward. The guard followed closely behind him, so Jack spent some time prodding around the campsite as if he were lost. He wanted to stick his head into a few of the tents to try and find Hiccup or any of the other performers, but when he drew too close to one of them, the guard cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“My Lord, perhaps that's not such a good idea...” The guard mentioned lightly, and Jack couldn't exactly argue. His shoulders slumped and he turned towards the guard for a moment, pouting under his veil. It seemed his emotion was audible enough through his body language, for the guard snickered and apologized under his breath, “but if anything happens to you, Prince Kozmotis will have my head.”

Deeming that as a fair enough reason to be wary, Jack shrugged and stepped away from the tent, continuing to wander around the campsite until he spotted the spot where the bonfire had been yesterday.

And, more particularly, where Hiccup sat now.

Jack smiled beneath his veil and hurried over, approaching the Dragon Tamer from the side. When his arrival caught the redhead's attention, the man merely glanced up, gave Jack a once over, then scoffed and turned away.

Jack blinked in surprise. Well, that was... offensive. Feeling a little more than insulted, Jack felt his cheeks heat up as he wondered what he might have done to garner such a reaction. Of course, he wasn't the only one who noticed the cold shoulder, and the guard stepped forward and said in a rough voice, “Show respect for your prince, boy! You are to greet him properly!”

Jack blushed more and tried to stop the guard for standing up for him, but the words were spoken and the way Hiccup leered at them made his stomach churn. The redhead relented, though, and said in a bitter voice, “Forgive me for my rudeness. I didn't know I was in the presence of loyalty.” and he did a mock bow, though he didn't stand from where he sat on the log. Slightly amused, Jack snickered beneath his veil, and bowed his head himself to return the greeting. Before Hiccup could look away again, Jack gestured to the empty spot beside the Dragon Tamer with the curl of his scepter, silently asking if he could sit with the other.

Hiccup blinked at him, glancing between the log and the Prince, then shrugged his shoulders and said with an indifferent tone, “Go ahead if you so wish. Though I doubt you'd want to get your precious robes dirtied.”

“He may be right, My Lord, you don't know what sort of stuff might be on there,” The guard murmured to Jack, who rolled his eyes and gestured to silence him. Stepping over, Jack gracefully seated himself on the log, smoothing out his robes on his legs and smiling at Hiccup, though the redhead only grimaced.

“So what's your name?” Hiccup asked Jack, figuring light conversation wouldn't kill either of them, but instead of the Prince answering him, the guard spoke.

“Prince Jackson Overland North, second son of King Nicolas North Frost and heir to the throne.” The guard announced, ignoring the embarrassed gestures from Jack to silence him. When it was out, the prince slumped with a huff, and Hiccup gave a snort.

“Wow, that was....” Hiccup shook his head, laughing under his breath again before he turned his attention back to what he had been doing. He held a piece of wood in one hand and whittled at it with a short knife, beginning to create some sort of shape from it. Jack watched him silently for a little bit, then pointed at it curiously.

Hiccup squinted at Jack, his brow furrowing, and he shrugged his shoulders and asked, “What is it?”

Jack gestured to the wood again, and when Hiccup merely gave him a blank stare, the prince turned to his guard instead, gesturing with his hands quickly.

“He wants to know what you're doing.” The guard explained and Hiccup narrowed his eyes at the both of them.

“I'm carving it.” He said plainly, as if the prince were dumb, “Can't you speak for yourself? Or are you mute?”

“Show respect!” the guard all but shouted, slamming the blunt end of his spear against the dirt ground. Hiccup glared at the man, then at Jack before he turned away from them and continued to carve.

Jack huffed. Why was Hiccup being so rude to him? Jack didn't really understand it, he hadn't done anything to upset the other, did he? He let the other whittle in silence for a short while as he thought of what to say, then Jack turned towards the guard and gestured.

“Apologize?” The guard asked in an incredulous tone, “For what, My Lord? This simpleton is the one being cold!”

“Simple--?!” Hiccup snarled, turning to face the two of them again with legitimate rage in his eyes. Jack gasped, flinching back when Hiccup got up to his feet and lifted the carving as if he was about to throw it, and the guard quickly yanked Jack away from the other, “I was _fine_ carving in peace until your royal nosiness sat his regal arse beside me!”

“Silence, scum!” The guard shouted, absolutely appalled by the man's words, whereas Jack couldn't help but snort in laughter, though he smothered it with his hand. Hiccup seemed to relax a little at Jack's laughter, and he lowered the carving.

And then Jack saw a cruel look pass over Hiccup's eyes, and he suddenly grinned, asking in a surprisingly kind voice, “Perhaps as an apology for my outburst, the prince will allow me to show him a dragon?”

Jack immediately perked up, nodding in agreement even though his guard was vehemently refusing.

“My Lord, such a thing sounds incredibly dangerous!” The guard whimpered, but with a few stern hand gestures, the guard heaved a sigh and muttered, “Fine... but don't tell Prince Pitchiner...”

Jack made a promise gesture with his hands, then quickly followed Hiccup, who had already begun to lead the way. They walked towards the edge of the camp, where the tents didn't reach, yet the trees didn't block the sky, and Hiccup cupped his hands around his mouth and let out a deep, loud growl. Jack and his guard stood back as they waited for the beast to come.

At first, Jack assumed Hiccup would be calling Toothless again, and was excited to see the little beast once more, but when the trees began to rattle and the ground shook with the heavy steps heading towards them, Jack began to doubt himself. Hiccup wouldn't really put them in danger, would he?

The Prince looked towards the Dragon Tamer in a slight panic, but the cruel smirk on the other's face was hint enough that Hiccup truly didn't care for royalty or their safety. The guard put a hand on Jack's back, prepared to tug him away at a moment's notice, and nearly did so when the beast finally breached the treeline.

With a sigh of relief, Jack recognized the red-scaled creature as the same beast Hiccup 'tamed' during the performance. The creature was growling deeply with smoke curling from his nostrils, then let out a deafening roar that was sure to catch the attention of the rest of the encampment. Jack grinned wide beneath his veil, not at all terrified of the creature. This lack of terror seemed to irritate Hiccup, however, and the man gave a decisive growl.

In a heartbeat, the dragon was charging at Jack and his guard. Jack stood his ground while the guard shrieked and backed away, falling onto his backside in his panic. The beast's nostrils where flaring with deep breaths, and when he drew close enough to Jack to smell his scent, he paused.

Hiccup's cruel smirk dropped when he noticed the dragon's hesitation, and the beast sniffed at the air a few more times before it licked its chaps, as if tasting the scent. Hiccup snarled at it, questioning it angrily, but the dragon ignored its tamer and instead let out a pleasant croon.

Jack gasped when he realized the beast had recognized his scent, then laughed when its giant tongue lapped at the front of his clothes, drenching them in sticky dragon spit. Hiccup snarled and roared a bit more, unable to understand what was happening before him, but before he could ask Jack any questions, the dragon dropped his head onto the Prince, effectively knocking him onto the ground.

Jack yelped at the sudden pain, his head knocking back and sending his crown across the dirt. Along with it went his veil, exposing his face to the dragon and Hiccup, and Jack heaved a gasp before he attempted to scramble away. He reached out for his veil, but was pinned to the ground by the dragon's jaw on his torso, and he let out a few pitiful whimpers when he couldn't quite reach it.

Hiccup was drawing closer, his eyes set on Jack's face in wonder. Jack was absolutely beautiful when he bore his family traits, he had been told this many times. It was proven time and time again in situations like these, and while Jack usually loved the attention, he found himself wishing Hiccup wasn't the one seeing him like this.

“My Lord!” The guard's delayed cry shook Hiccup from his stupor, and the redhead roared and snarled at the dragon loudly, shoving the beast's head off of Jack's body. The Prince gasped when his lungs were no longer being compressed, his eyes slipping shut as his head spun, and before he knew it, he was being pulled by the arm onto his feet. When he tried to see who it was, he met eyes with Hiccup.

He was about to give the man a smile when he remembered his veil was missing, but he didn't have the time to react before a black blade appeared between them, shoving Hiccup away with the blunt end.

Jack looked up, his eyes wide when he saw his brother standing behind him, his scythe clutched tightly in his hand. He was about to speak Pitch's name when the man's hand suddenly slapped onto Jack's face, smothering him.

“Get the veil.” Pitch all but snarled, keeping his hand firmly placed on Jack's face while the prince squirmed and struggled against it. He even tried knocking his scepter against Pitch's shoulder in an attempt for freedom, and was just about to bite his hand when it was being replaced with the transparent cloth. Jack deflated a little, then huffed moodily when Pitch readjusted it on his head. He felt the crown go on after, then turned to face Pitch, who was still holding Hiccup back with his scythe as if he were a venomous creature.

Beside them stood the guard who had failed to protect Jack, and when Pitch was sure the Dragon Tamer wasn't going to get any closer, he turned his attention to the guard and tried to growl in a low tone, though his irritation made his voice rise, “In the one short instance where your protection was needed, you stumbled away and left the _prince_ unprotected!”

“I-I didn't mean to! I didn't expect a dragon to--” The guard tried defending himself, but that only pissed Pitch off more.

“You are part of the _Royal Guard_! If you can't face a mere dragon without _wetting_ yourself then you are of no use to me!” Pitch hissed, and he rose a hand towards the guard. A dark shadow seemed to spill from Pitch's robes, darting across the ground and creating a sort of void beneath the now shaking guard. Jack whimpered, tugging quietly at Pitch's robes to try and stop him, but the elder prince ignored him and rose his hand.

“My Lord, wait, please!” The guard yelped when the shadows suddenly grew up to his waist.

“Your Highness, is this truly necessary?” Another panicked voice came from behind Pitch, and Jack had to peer around his half-brother to see the Ringmaster standing there, his face absolutely pale, “Horrendous' beasts are truly terrifying creatures, it isn't _his_ fault he was startled!”

“He failed to do his job,” Pitch said in a low voice, raising his hand more so the shadows was up to the mans neck.

“Look, it's my fault, okay? I called the beast myself!” Hiccup suddenly spoke up, smacking Pitch's scythe away and getting both his and Jack's attention. The shorter prince began shaking his head, but Hiccup ignored him and continued to say, “I told the beast to scare the Prince and his guard. It's my fault.”

Jack groaned in despair, wishing Hiccup had just kept his mouth shut, but when the Prince looked up at Pitch's face through his veil, he saw the man's eyes widen and his lip curl in anger. Keeping the shadows encasing the guard, Pitch stepped around Jack and approached Hiccup, lowering his scythe so he could get in the Dragon Tamer's face.

He didn't say anything to the man, though. He just stared Hiccup down until that determined look fell from the redhead's face, and his eyes turned down. When Hiccup took a couple of steps away, Pitch scoffed and turned his attention back to the guard in his clutches.

With a quick gesture, the shadow shut around the guard's head, then scattered. When the darkness was gone, so was the guard. The looks on the Ringmaster and Hiccup's faces showed their terror of the elder Prince, while Jack felt more embarrassed by anything. The guard who had been accompanying Pitch looked white as a sheet as well, and with a shaking voice, suggested, “Perhaps we should head back, now, My Lord...”

“Yes... perhaps we should.” Pitch sighed heavily, sounding much more relaxed than he had moments ago. He ran his hands over his robes, straightening them out before he banished his scythe through a similar shadow encasement, then he placed a hand on Jack's shoulder and began to lead him back to the horses. As he passed the Ringmaster, he said in a light tone, “The King will be in touch,” without bothering to pause.

Jack glanced over his shoulder at Hiccup as he was lead away, seeing the redhead grow foggier through the veil. When he and Pitch walked far enough, the Ringmaster went to Hiccup and looked to be scolding him, but he spoke much too quiet for Jack to hear him.

“This is what I get for letting you out of the castle,” Pitch grumbled to himself, but he got Jack's attention anyways, “I told you it was dangerous to come out here. Now I am certain your feeble escape attempts will be quelled, will they not?”

Jack pressed his lips into a line, then huffed quietly and nodded. He knew now wasn't the time to test Pitch's temper, and there would definitely never be a time to tell the man about how he had already succeeded.

Still, he wished his interaction with Hiccup hadn't been so strange.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	7. Bunnymund's Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Jamie the incorrigible and his father, Mr. Meany-Grump-Grump Man. Sophie, on the other hand, is still a precious doll. Slight nsfw at beginning, but i mean, its just Jack being a horny teen.

Jack sighed as he laid in his bed, still wearing his royal robes, but his veil and crown placed on the corner of the mattress. He was holding his scepter to his chest and staring out of the window, his mind replaying the events that happened earlier that day. He felt guilty at how Pitch treated the guard. He felt confused at how Hiccup had treated him. Above all, however, he felt worried that he would never see Hiccup again, and if he did, that the man would treat him with the same disdain.

And to add to his ill feelings, he knew Hiccup had seen his face unveiled. He had seen that look many others had shown when looking upon the Prince with his royal traits—awe. While such a look usually did plenty to boost Jack's ever inflating ego, seeing the look on Hiccup's face made him worried. Had Hiccup recognized him? Would he prefer the Prince to just Jack, like so many others did?

Jack sighed and rolled onto his back, the scepter still in his hand as he stared at the stone ceiling. He was so deep in thought that he barely even reacted when he heard his bedroom door open. He did, however, frown when Pitch's voice called out to him.

“Jack,” Pitch said in his gentle voice, “You've avoided our lessons all night. I thought we had a deal?”

When all Pitch got from Jack as a response was a deep sigh, Pitch pressed his lips into a line, then closed the door behind him and sat beside Jack on his bed. He looked over the Prince quietly for a short while, but Jack avoided his gaze. In an attempt to comfort him, Pitch settled a hand on Jack's thigh and gently rubbed his thumb into it.

“Tell me what's on your mind, Jack.” Pitch requested in a gentle voice, his eyes staying on Jack's face, though his bright blue eyes stuck to the ceiling. Jack didn't respond for a short while after, but when he did, his voice was small and timid.

“What happened to the guard?” He asked, and Pitch took a slow, even breath as he considered how he should answer.

“I threw him in the dungeons,” Pitch explained slowly, no longer looking at his half brother, “Where he will stay for a long while. He must learn that his actions today were more than unacceptable.”

“It wasn't his fault,” Jack said immediately, his brow furrowing, “He warned me away from the dragon. I just wanted to see it up close...”

“It wasn't your fault, either,” Pitch pointed out, frowning, “if that reckless sham of a performer didn't sick his dragon on you--”

“He isn't a sham,” Jack interrupted, his eyes finally making contact with Pitch's, “He had complete control over the beast.”

Pitch snorted and rolled his eyes, then said in a condescending tone, “Ah, yes, I was able to see that when the child struggled to remove the beast's head from your chest.”

Jack clenched his jaw, but had nothing more to say about it. Instead, he rolled onto his side, facing away from Pitch, and he grumbled under his breath, “I just wanted to see him perform... but now I won't even get that.”

Pitch frowned and Jack's words, then rose his brow and asked lightly, “What do you mean?”

“I doubt father would dare let such beasts in Castle Town, especially considering one of them nearly crushed his youngest son,” Jack explained coldly, trying to pretend like it didn't bother him when both he and Pitch knew it did.

“Oh, my dearest Jack,” Pitch sighed dramatically, placing his hand on Jack's hip now, then leaning closer to him so he could whisper in his ear, “What father doesn't know won't kill him.”

The words took a moment to sink in, and when they did, Jack sat up and turned to face Pitch head-on, his eyes wide and disbelieving. His mouth worked mutely for a moment before he was able to choke out the words, “You bought them?”

Pitch answered with a single nod, a confident smirk on his face, and Jack's disbelief turned into utter excitement.

“Oh, Pitch!” The young Prince cried, pushing himself to his knees and throwing his arms around Pitch's neck, hugging him close. While Pitch struggled to keep himself upright with Jack's weight, Jack pressed a few quick kisses to the side of his face. The elder Prince grunted and tried to pull away, obviously unhappy with the affection, and Jack decided he had had enough.

As he let go, Jack asked the man, “Did you buy the entire show? Did you buy the Dragon Tamer?”

Pitch grimaced as he wiped his face where he had been kissed with the sleeve of his tunic, and he gritted out, “Yes, I had.” Pitch looked up at Jack, just about ready to scold him, but when he saw his half-brother's glittering eyes and bright smile, he had to take a mental step back. It was rare to see Jack this happy.

“Do you think I can see him?” Jack asked in a hopeful voice, “I mean up close? Perhaps even during the performance?”

Pitch smiled a little, then shrugged his shoulders and turned his head away, straightening out his cloak—mussed from Jack's previous attack—and said lightly, as if he hadn't thought of it, “Ah, well I do recall the Ringmaster telling me of the performances, and what they typically entail. If I remember correctly, he mentioned the Dragon Tamer had a knack for singling out commoners to 'take part' in his charade...” Jack felt compelled to defend Hiccup's name again until he began to realize what Pitch was hinting at. His smile grew as his half-brother finished off by saying, “Of course, I suppose I could _try_ to arrange for you to be the one he chooses.”

“Pitch--!” Jack cried excitedly, on the brink of tackling his brother again and smothering him even more, but Pitch had learned his lesson and quickly jumped to his feet, stepping lightly towards the bedroom door.

“Ah, ah! I've had enough of your clinginess for tonight.” He said, pulling the door open and smirking at Jack, “You can thank me by catching up on the lessons missed today due to your brooding. I expect you to be able to tell me all about what the treaty that ceased war between us and Gradina entailed, and who conceived it.”

“Didn't we already cover that before?” Jack huffed, flopping back on his bed and giving Pitch a pout, which the elder Prince seemed to regard for a moment before looking at the door instead.

“Then you'll have no hesitation tomorrow when I ask you to tell me the answer, will you?” Pitch pointed out, and Jack's brow furrowed as he thought about it. Well, it seemed he had some information to brush up on, “Besides, it's important to know everything there is to know about a kingdom when it's ruler is coming to visit for a fortnight.”

“He's coming to talk with Father, though, not me. Besides, it's just a visit, it's not like we're waging war again,” Jack continued to complain, getting Pitch's eyes on him again.

“Jack, you must always remember, what we do and say while His Majesty—while _any_ ruler, in fact—is here can and will impact our future together. Even if we show the slightest act of discrimination towards him or utter a single word of offense, war will come of it.”

They looked at each other silently for a time, Pitch making sure the information was well-received, and when Jack's eyes drifted down and his pout melted, Pitch knew he understood. The elder prince entertained a brief idea in his head for a moment, and before he knew it, he mentioned, “Since His Majesty and the Prince and Princess are visiting soon, I figure we will be spending our days veiled. This may prove to be an issue for our lessons for the coming weeks. I suggest we move our lectures to my bedchambers, in order to ensure our privacy.”

Jack glanced up at Pitch again, then sighed through his nose and nodded, “Okay. If you think it's necessary.”

Pitch smiled to himself, then said in a gentle tone, “Now, get some rest, Jack. Our visitors should be arriving in the morning.”

“Good night,” Jack mumbled, getting up from his bed and beginning to pull off his robes, not caring to wait around for his chambermaid to come and assist him. As he tugged them off, Pitch's eyes stayed on him, and it was only when Jack began to slip the nightgown over his head did Pitch respond.

“That beast did quite some damage to you, didn't it?” He spoke, catching Jack's attention as he let the nightgown fall over his body, tightening the drawstrings around the collar, “You looked to have some slight bruises along your backside. Did it shove you onto rocks?”

“Rocks?” Jack mumbled, lifting up the skirt of his nightgown and examining himself, running his fingers along his bottom and blushing when he realized what the strange bruises were from, “Ah, I hadn't even felt them. It's hard to notice things when you have a dragon's jaw on you. I'm surprised my chest didn't bruise.” He lied, dropping the skirt again and wondering how long he must have laid on the pebbles at the lake to have them bruise him.

“Hmm...” Pitch considered the prince's words, then shook his head and said, finally, “Good night.” before he slipped out, closing Jack's bedroom door with a soft thud. Jack stood in the middle of his room for a little longer, then lifted the skirt of his nightgown once again to look at the bruises. He pressed his fingers to a few of them, noting that they didn't particularly hurt.

Casting the thought away, Jack dropped the skirt and went over to his window, leaning against the sill and resting his chin on his hand. The forest in the distance was rustling with the wind, and the creaks of shop signs rocking echoed through the air. Smoke crawled into the sky from where the Wandering Circus sat, and Jack's mind went to Hiccup.

He wanted to see the redhead again—as himself, not as the Prince. He wondered if Hiccup would be waiting for him at the town's gate, standing just beyond the treeline with a lantern in his hand. He wondered, if he went to him, where Hiccup would take him tonight, and if it would be just as beautiful as the lake had been.

With a yawn, Jack decided he was too tired to continue imagining, and he slipped into his bed and fell asleep. Even in his own mind, he couldn't escape the thoughts of the Dragon Tamer, though. He dreamt of his red hair and bright green eyes. He saw those entertaining freckles that spattered his cheeks and drizzled down his shoulders and underneath his tunic. Jack felt his hand pushing Hiccup's tunic up, asking in a distant voice if his freckles went lower, which he knew they did. He had seen them, he reminds Hiccup, when they had disrobed themselves before each other at the lake. He asks Hiccup if he was trying to lead them into a situation. Hiccup smiles at him.

There's a feeling of pleasure flowing through Jack, even though he's only dreaming of the redhead's skin beneath his hands. He wonders if Hiccup's skin tastes good, if those freckles of his can be felt against his tongue, and he leans down to find out himself.

But then he's awoken with a gasp, a firm hand on his shoulder shaking him awake. Jack's eyes blink open, his mind racing to catch up with what's going on, and when he sees the sky outside of his window still an inky black, he groans and throws an arm over his eyes.

“Oh, come now, my Prince, I really don't want to shove you out of bed so early,” He hears his chambermaid say to him, and he groans again, louder.

“Why did you wake me?” He whines, wanting to get back to his dream, to touching Hiccup and tasting those ridiculous freckles, though the afterthought made him feel a bit embarrassed.

“His Majesty, King Bunnymund's carriage has arrived at the town's gate. We must get you ready to greet him.” She explained, going to the other side of his bed and pulling the sheets down, then gasping and huffing, “My Prince, you really are a man aren't you.”

“Wha--?” He mumbled, glancing down at himself before sitting upright in embarrassment. He tugged his nightgown down and drew his knees to his chest, “I-I just have to pee!”

His chambermaid scoffed and rolled her eyes at him, but her expression was merely playful, “You can 'pee' later. Lean your head out the window, I must wash that hair of yours.”

“It looks fine!” Jack huffed, though he still did as he was told, trying to keep his nightgown bundled up so his embarrassment wasn't obvious. Luckily tonight, the water she dumped over his head was warm and relaxing. She pulled him back in and toweled off his hair, then allowed him the privacy to relieve himself before dressing him.

His erection had been weak from the start, and wilted completely throughout the morning routine, so Jack didn't have to worry about actually taking care of it and risking his chambermaid hearing him perform such a ridiculous act on himself. However, as he let her dress him and veil him, Jack soon realized that his thoughts of Hiccup were beginning to cause the same reaction.

Thankfully, his robes were heavy enough to keep anything from standing up and grabbing unnecessary attention. And, to add to his luck that morning, Pitch arrived in his room a mere ten minutes after Jack's morning routine began, and his tired face turned Jack's lust into delight. No one liked to interrupt Pitch's sleep, because he became an entirely different person when he was too tired.

“I trust the Changeling is appropriate?” He grumbled as he entered the room, rubbing at his eyes and the veil pulled back over his head so he could see, “Ah. So it is.”

“Morning, brother.” Jack hummed happily, getting a sneer in response.

“Half.” He reminded pointlessly, “Wipe that smile off your face and put on your veil. Bunnymund's carriage is here and I don't want to waste my time entertaining his Lordiness and his two brats.”

“Pleasant today,” Jack pointed out lightly, knowing he was only giving Pitch more reason to murder him, “I can't wait to see what you are like as a father.”

“You won't if you keep running your mouth, demon.” Pitch hissed, snatching the veil from Jack's chambermaid's hands and roughly tugging it over Jack's face, then settling the crown on top. The entire time, Jack was laughing at him, but when the veil was placed, his laughter turned into gentle chuckling.

“Need I go over the rules of the veil, Jack?” Pitch growled, effectively silencing Jack and getting a quick shake of his head in response, “Good. Get your scepter, we are to meet Father and Her Majesty in the throne room so we can greet King Bunnymund.”

Jack was quick to grab his scepter from his bed, giving a brief sigh when the power filled his body. With the transformation complete, he joined Pitch in the hallway and walked briskly with him towards the throne room. Inside, their Father and Jack's mother were already seated side by side, dressed properly and looking as if it wasn't the middle of the night.

“Ah, boys,” The King said happily, gesturing with his hand for them to hurry, “Just in time, King Bunnymund's carriage has arrived.” Jack left Pitch's side to seat himself beside his father, resting the scepter on his lap and adjusting his veil so it hung comfortably over his face. Pitch went to the seat beside Jack's mother, the two of them briefly meeting eyes before looking away once more. Jack felt bad, knowing neither of them particularly liked each other. He had often offered to switch seats with Pitch, but knew he would always be rejected. After all, only the heir to the throne should sit beside the King.

Moments later, the throne room doors were all but thrown open, and two foreign guards stepped through along with a man, who walked halfway to the throne and opened up a parchment.

“Now announcing the arrival of His Majesty, King Eehu Aster Bunnymund, Ruler of the land of Gradina. Accompanying him are his children, His Highness, Prince Jamie Bennett Bunnymund, Prince of Fauna, and Her Highness, Princess Sophie Bennett Bunnymund, Princess of Flora.” The man announced, and as he spoke, the three came in.

Jack's eyes settled first on Bunnymund, surprised to see the man looking so regal, and yet so rugged. His black skin robed in bright, spring green cloths, and light grey tattoos marked his forehead. His wavy black hair was brushed back to show the marks, and atop his head stood a crowd adorned with delicate metal flowers and leaves. His bright green eyes were tired, but pleasant, yet he didn't smile at the King or the Queen. Instead, his eyes drifted down to his children, who had burst through the door, laughing tirelessly from the long carriage ride.

They chased each other around Bunnymund's legs, the Prince running away from the Princess, and when Sophie circled around Aster for the third time, he quickly stooped down and scooped her up, getting a delighted cry from her as he cradled her in his arms.

“Settle down, children.” Show some respect.” He scolded them lightly, though he was hardly stern or cruel. He looked at his children with absolute adoration, brushing their surprisingly light hair away from their fair faces.

“King Bunnymund,” The King spoke, standing from his throne to properly greet their visitors, “It is so nice to see you again. And to finally meet your children!” He took the few steps down and approached Bunnymund, holding his hand out for a simple shake, which the visiting King seemed reluctant to give, but their hands clasped anyways. The Queen stood next, going down to her husband's side, while Jack and Pitch kept their seats. The two glanced at each other.

“Yes,” Bunnymund said, his voice much more rougher than it had been before, “They take after their mother. What a shame they hadn't the chance to meet her.”

“A shame indeed,” The Queen said quickly, putting a hand on North's shoulder, squeezing lightly, “I wish we could have done more to help her.”

“As do I.” Bunnymund all but grunted, then he bent down to set Sophie back on her feet, The blond girl quickly hid herself behind her father's legs, staring up wide-eyed at the King and Queen before her. The Queen smiled kindly and knelt down, holding out her hand to greet the young Princess, but she gasped and tucked herself tighter against Bunnymund's side, trembling.

“Forgive her,” Bunnymund spoke for her, catching the Queen's attention with a frown, “She is awfully shy when in a strange place.”

The Queen glanced up at him, then back down at Sohpie before saying in a soft vocie, “Don't worry, darling, I won't hurt you.”

“Course you won't!” The Prince suddenly shouted, forcing his way between Bunnymund and the King and Queen, causing all three of them to stagger back at the way he puffed out his chest and frowned at the other two, “Cause if you do, then I'll hurt _you!_ ”

With a sigh, Bunnymund mentioned, “And he is much too courageous for his own good.”

“Worry not. Children will be children,” The Queen smiled, standing upright and smoothing out her skirts, “And such lively children they are. They will make wonderful rulers themselves, in the future.”

“But for now, they are just as tiring,” Bunnymund smiled, his eyes drooping, “While it may be custom to throw a feast when a visitor arrives, perhaps we can postpone the celebration for the morning? I stayed up all night trying to wrestle these two inside the carriage.”

“Of course!” North spoke up, clapping a hand on Bunnymund's shoulder and grinning, “We will all go rest until the sun rises fully. In the morning we shall throw the feast, and afterwards we will catch up.”

Bunnymund nodded, murmuring a quiet, “Aye, sounds good,” when Jamie slipped away from the group and wandered towards the Princes, who watched him warily. When he drew close to Pitch, the man narrowed his eyes under the veil and shifted in his seat. His aura seemed to ooze danger, so Jamie quietly stepped away and snuck towards Jack.

“Jamie,” Bunnymund called out when he noticed his son's absence, and the little Prince hesitated for a moment before he turned his attention to his father, “Come.”

“Who are they?” He asked loudly, getting an uncomfortable glance from half the guard, “They're weird.”

“ _Jamie_!” Bunnymund gasped, glancing at his hosts who looked more than a little offended. Jamie seemed to realize the weight of his own words, and his cheeks turned a cute red in embarrassment.

Glancing back at Jack, Jamie murmured a light, “Sorry...” and Jack could only smile. When the boy turned to run off, Jack bit his lip and stood from his throne, surprising his parents and Pitch. Jamie turned back to look at him, his brown eyes wide, and Jack carefully dropped down onto one knee. Holding his balance on his scepter, he held out a free hand, palm facing up. With a light twitch of his fingers, he silently coaxed Jamie to extend his own hand. When the small palm was in Jack's own, Jack smiled again and allowed his power to rush down his arm and into Jamie's, making his skin tingle and frost burst from the center of his hand.

Ice began to form just above his skin in two crooked lines, spinning around each other like a bent braid. The lines sprouted leaves along them, and at the top, two blooming roses burst into creation. Jamie's eyes were sparkling at the display, and as the ice sculptures settled in his hand, Jack let go of him and stepped away. Jamie glanced at the older prince a few more times before running off towards Bunnymund and Sophie, smiling a wide smile as he handed one of the ice roses to his sister.

Bunnymund looked at Jack in interest as he reclaimed his seat, then said in a light voice, “I believe I have yet to meet your youngest son, North. Perhaps we should remedy this?”

North almost missed his guest's words, however, as he was too busy staring hard at Jack, his face bright red with repressed rage. Jack refused to meet his gaze, however, and merely kept his eyes focused on his scepter, picking at the orb as if there was dust.

“North?” Bunnymund pressed, finally getting the other King's attention, and when North was looking back at him, Bunnymund rose a brow, “Your son?”

“Ah... Ah! Yes, well,” North cleared his throat, gesturing for Jack to come to his side, which he reluctantly did. When he was in grabbing distance, North wrapped his hand around Jack's arm and held on tight, “Allow me to introduce my first-born and heir to the throne, Jackson Overland North. Overland from his mother.” and he gestured loosely to his Queen, who smiled politely.

“Though it seems his powers were inherited from his father,” Bunnymund mentioned, reaching out a hand to Jamie, who happily handed him his slowly melting ice sculpture, “Ice manipulation? Which must mean your... other son would have--”

“The same power,” North interrupted, and Jack looked at him from behind his veil in confusion, “Though he is much more content in keeping it tucked away, unlike some.”

Bunnymund hummed, obviously not buying the blatant lie, but he still offered Jack a kind smile and said, “It was very nice to meet you, Prince Jackson,” and Jack gave him a curt bow. North watched them interact for only a second longer before he cleared his throat and addressed Pitch.

“Kozmotis, take yourself and Jackson back to your rooms. Our guests are tired, after all, and we wouldn't want to keep them up any longer, now do we?” and with that, Pitch also stood from his seat and quickly made his way to Jack's other side. He placed a gentle hand on Jack's lower back, and when North finally let go of him, he began to lead him towards the throne room doors.

On their way out, Jack noticed the way Jamie stared after them, the ice rose in his hand beginning to drip, though he didn't seem to care. He looked as though he wanted to follow them, but he stayed by his father's side as Bunnymund and North discussed their sleeping arrangements.

When Pitch and Jack left the throne room, they walked on until they were closer to their bedrooms before Pitch stopped them and tugged off his veil.

“Are you insane?!” He hissed, trying to keep his voice down in hopes that his words wouldn't echo, “The number one rule Father _always_ tells us! Don't touch the veil, don't speak, and _don't show your magic!”_

“What does it even matter?” Jack huffed, tugging his own veil up so he could meet Pitch's face, “Everyone knows the royal family has magic! _All_ royal families have magic!”

“Oh really?” Pitch sneered, crossing his arms and jutting his chin into the air, as he always does when he knows he's about to win an argument, “Then tell me, Jack, since you know it all: What magic does King Bunnymund possess?”

Jack's brow furrowed, and he crossed his own arms as he wracked his brain for an answer. He could recall practically all he learned about Bunnymund and the Kingdom of Gradina, but the power that Bunnymund himself possessed escaped him. When Jack's own stubborn scowl began to melt from his face, Pitch's sneer turned to a smirk.

“He has the power of transformation. The reason why you don't know that is because the only people who know his power are other Kings, and their closest families. The reason for _that_ is so that the commoners won't know, and won't be intimidated or influenced by their King's magic. There have been many examples of these people taking our abilities to an unsafe level of worship—one rivaling God.”

“Then why is it so bad that I used my magic then? The only people in the room were us!” Jack argued, throwing his arms down at his sides and frowning at his half-brother, who narrowed his eyes at him and his continued defiance.

“Because the only magic freely known throughout Royalty is the King's and occasionally the Queen's. The Princes and Princesses' magic are left unknown for power-related reasons. Would you really want to marry off your daughter to a son with the simple magic of ice manipulation, or would you rather marry her off to a man with the ability to turn into his own enemies?” Pitch jabbed, poking a rough finger against Jack's chest, “We keep these things a secret because they ruin your value. And now that your power is known—to Bunnymund, at least—it _will_ impact your future as King. And it will do so negatively.”

With a sigh, Pitch took a step back and rubbed at his temples. He eyed Jack a bit more before mumbling, “We better hope we convince Bunnymund to create an allegiance with us or else your future may as well be thrown away... All because of _your_ mistake.”

Jack sucked a sharp breath through his teeth, his cheeks turning red from anger and embarrassment, but above all he felt shamed. His eyes pricked with tears, but he did all he could to keep them from falling, and with a vigor, he shoved Pitch away and growled out, “Well why don't I apologize for being such an massive _disappointment!”_

“Jack--!” Pitch sighed, but the Prince didn't let him finish and he marched right past him. Pitch groaned in annoyance and chased his half-brother, following him further down the hall as he called out, “You have no right to be offended, Jack! You're the one who made the mistake!”

“So is that what I am now?!” Jack yelled, turning on Pitch with watering eyes, though his kept his lips in a fierce scowl, “A mistake?! That's all you ever say about me, Pitch! I'm always messing up to you!”

“If you would just listen--” Pitch tried to speak, but by then they had reached Jack's room, and he tugged the door open and stepped inside.

“Just leave me alone, Pitch. I don't want to talk to you.” Jack interrupted him, pushing the door with intent to slam it in his half-brother's face, but Pitch caught it just before it shut.

“Just try to understand our worries, Jack.” Pitch pleaded, but Jack only scowled at him and shoved him away with his scepter. With Pitch out of the way, Jack was able to close and lock his door, though it didn't seem to deter Pitch in the slightest. He could hear the man just outside the door, trying to talk to him through it, but Jack walked away and went to the window instead, looking out.

The sun was beginning to rise, painting the sky in that gorgeous orange-purple that he had seen so often the past few days. However, from his seat at the window, the colors seemed remarkably dull.

He could see that small tail of smoke rising in the distance, and his mind filled with Hiccup. He wanted to see the man, wanted to hear him whispering stories into his ear. He wanted to slip out of his window and sneak out and find him, but it was already morning and Jack's absence wouldn't only be known, but blown out of proportion.

He sighed, sitting in the windowsill with his veil pulled up so he could watch the skies. His scepter rested across his lap as the wind brushed against the skin of his face. He wished he could just sit here for the rest of the day, but a half hour later there was knocking at his door, followed by the familiar voice of his chambermaid.

Jack closed his eyes and rested his head against the sill, then sighed and got up to let her in. When he unlocked the door and opened it the slightest crack, he saw her and her alone. With a small smile, he let her in, and she immediately began fussing over him.

“Look at you, boy, you have circles under your eyes darker than Prince Kozmotis himself.” She scolded, cradling Pitch's pale face in her hands, then rolling her eyes and pulling him over to his vanity, “Didn't get a wink of sleep just now, did you? Well, I wouldn't blame you, not with the way Pitch was banging on your door all morning. Don't know what bit that man, but he sure was upset.”

“With me, most likely,” Jack murmured, shrugging his shoulders and tilting his head back to allow his chambermaid to clean his face off with a damp cloth, “He's always upset with me.”

She clicked her tongue and him and removed his crown and veil, picking up a brush to smooth out his pure white hair. With a gentle voice, she cooed, “You don't always know that, My Prince. Prince Kozmotis might be a cruel man sometimes but... his heart is in the right place when it comes to you. Whenever you're not around, he's asking us to keep and eye on you. Asking us if we fed you yet or dressed you yet. He knows you don't talk to him like you talk to us sometimes, so he makes sure he keeps up.”

“He makes you spy on me?” Jack asks, turning to look at his chambermaid with a frown. The older woman merely smiled back, then continued to brush his hair as she shook her head.

“We don't need to spy on you, Jack. Not when we're the ones cleaning your bed and body every day. We know you best, and Prince Kozmotis asks us about it. Whether or not we tell him is what you should be asking.”

“Do you?” Jack asked, raising a brow at her through the mirror, and she smiled secretively at him.

“Only if its important for him to know.” She said lightly, finishing with his hair, then sighing as she looked over him. She ran a hand over the top of his head, then said lowly, “I know you don't like the way he treats you sometimes, My Prince, but... despite the mother problem, he _is_ your brother.”

“Sometimes I think he wishes he wasn't,” Jack grumbles, and the maid's brows shot up in surprise, a reaction Jack didn't understand.

“Oh really?” She asks, no longer meeting Jack's eye in the mirror, “And what makes you say that?”

Jack squinted at her for a moment, then said in an uncertain voice, “Sometimes it feels like he's keeping something from me. The other day when I ate in his room, he...” Jack could feel her hands stilling on him, growing tense. He frowned and tried to look at her again, but she still refused to meet his eye.

“What did he do, Jack?” She asked, her voice suddenly taut and cold, and Jack felt suddenly anxious with her. Jack stayed quiet for a bit longer, staring at the woman, and when she finally met his gaze, her eyes were hard and worried. “What did he do?”

Jack blinked a few times, then shook his head, “He said something strange. It unsettled me. I thought he wanted my staff but now I'm not so sure. What do you know?”

“Sorry?” She asked, caught off guard by the sudden question.

“You know something about Pitch. What is it?” Jack asked again, turning in his seat to face her head-on, “What did he tell you?”

Her stony expression didn't change as she thought about Jack's question, and after a long silence, she finally said, “As I have told Prince Kozmotis many times... there are some things I just cannot tell you about your brother. This is one of them.”

Jack's brows furrowed at that, but he didn't think he should ask again. He doubted he would get a different answer, anyways. He turned back towards the vanity and allowed her to place the veil and crown back on his head. After, he stood and made his way for his bedroom door, but his chambermaid stopped him by calling out his name.

“He really does love you, Jack. He just doesn't know how to show it.” She told him, and the Prince gave her and uncertain smile, then left his room. His mind reeled with the questions he had and the vague answers his chambermaid gave him, but he could only decide on one thing: There was something between himself and Pitch that made his half-brother act like he does towards him. Whatever it was, Jack wasn't sure if he would find out, or if he even wanted to. It would probably just be better if he pretended like he knew nothing, Jack believed.

He made his way to the dining room silently, knowing that's where his family and their guests would be for the feast. He had almost made it to the door when he felt a hand settle on his own.

Turning his head quickly, he expected Pitch to be there, but was more than surprised to find Prince Jamie instead. The brunette boy was looking up at Jack with wide eyes, his hand holding onto Jack's sleeve tightly. Jack tilted his head at him, silently asking what he was doing, and Jamie blinked a few times before pressing his lips into a line.

“I... Thank you for the flowers yesterday. They were really pretty. And, um... sorry I called you weird.” Jamie said stiffly, as if he hadn't done this sort of thing before, “Your magic is really pretty. I wish I had ice powers.”

Jack rose a brow underneath his veil, then carefully knelt down so he could see Jamie better. The little Prince took a shy step back, his cheeks turning bright red, and when Jack nodded at him to continue, Jamie made an uncertain face.

“Dad says not to talk about that sort of stuff to other people...” He mumbled, his brow furrowing a bit and his hands picking at his own sleeves. When Jack neither pressed nor gave up, however, it seemed to melt Jamie's resolve. The brunet pursed his lips, then crossed his arms and said, “But I'll tell it to just you, okay? So keep it a secret!”

Jack nodded simply, smiling to the boy, and Jamie glanced around for a second before leaning in and whispering, “I can transform just like my dad does! I'm... not that good at it yet, but I can turn into a little rabbit, just like him!” He was smiling so brightly, obviously proud of himself, that Jack couldn't resist smiling as well. Glancing around once more, Jamie then whispered, “But Sophie has the powers my mom had. She can make plants grow anywhere she likes. Flowers, trees, anything! She's a lot better at it than I am at mine, but that's okay! You should see her make things grow.”

Jack bobbed his head, quietly agreeing that he would like to, and Jamie smiled a bit wider before he glanced down the hall, towards the dining room door. Jack followed his gaze for a moment, then gently touched Jamie's shoulder, getting his attention once more.

“Dad's in there right now,” Jamie said with a frown, “With your parents and your brother. I think they're waiting for us to start the feast, but I wanted to go in with you.”

Jack gave the boy a curious look—one he was sure the other couldn't see too well, and Jamie's cheeks turned a light red before he shrugged. Jack watched the boy fidget for a bit longer, then held out his hand, getting a surprised look from the boy. It soon melted into one of pleasant delight, and Jamie took Jack's hand in his own. Jack stood upright, his hand still in Jamie's, and together they walked towards the dining room doors.

Upon entering, Jamie stepped closer to Jack and tried to follow the other to his designated seat beside Pitch, but before he could get far, Bunnymund stood and said in a stern voice, “Jamie, come.”

The little prince looked reluctant to let go of Jack's hand, and he nearly refused until Sophie peered over the table from her own seat. They met eyes for a moment, then Jamie sighed and let his hand slip from Jack's. He made his way around the table and seated himself between Sophie and Bunnymund, crossing his arms and pouting the entire time. Bunnymund frowned at his son, but he sat as well and gently brushed a hand through his hair, trying to soothe the boy.

Jack sat beside Pitch, but he kept his gaze turned away from his half-brother. He didn't intend to communicate with him at all during the feast, but as the food was being brought out, Pitch slipped a small piece of parchment onto Jack's lap.

Frowning to himself, Jack carefully opened the parchment, reading to himself, “I'm sorry about what happened this morning.”

Jack huffed under his breath, his heart pounding at the idea of having this conversation now, but he knew Pitch wouldn't stop until Jack responded.

Jack gestured to a nearby guard, waving him closer so he could whisper in his ear. The guard nodded at him and left the room momentarily, only to return with a quill for the Prince to use.

Jack wrote a response, “Can we just pretend like it hadn't happened?” and handed it to Pitch, who read it immediately. With a frown, Pitch crumpled the paper in his hand, then sighed through his nose and settled back in his seat. Plates were set before them, but Jack and Pitch both knew they wouldn't be eating as much as they saw in front of them while they wore the veil. While they were allowed to eat, the rule of the veil still stayed, and they would have to be able to maneuver their food beneath it while still being polite.

Jack picked up his fork delicately, spearing a small fruit and carefully bringing it underneath his veil. He had to tilt his head forward a little to keep the fruit from staining his veil, and when he successfully got it past his lips, Pitch handed him a note back.

“If you so wish.” It had read, and a few lines underneath, he had written, “I care deeply for you, Jack.”

Jack sighed through his nose, his chest tightening, then warming considerably. He looked towards Pitch, who was eating just as slowly as Jack was, and when he was sure he had his attention, Jack made a simple hand gesture.

“I love you, too.”

He saw Pitch's shoulders relax in relief, which just made Jack a bit happier. They turned back to their food, their fight once again forgotten, and Jack felt lighthearted.

“So, Bunnymund, what brings you here, truly?” North spoke up when they had all gotten about halfway through their first course, “All your letter to us said was that you would be arriving soon...”

“Ah, yes,” Bunnymund cleared his throat, sitting a bit straighter and casting a glance to his children, making sure they were behaving. He had to smack Jamie's hand when he caught the prince playing with his food. “I believed a visit was long overdue, seeing how the last time I had come, it was to ask for your help.”

North looked slightly uncomfortable by the topic, but he merely shoved more food into his mouth to hide it. He bobbed his head, then swallowed before saying, “Well, your presence is truly appreciated. In honor of your visit, we have enlisted the entertainment of a nearby circus. They should be arriving tomorrow, around midday. I was hoping that between now and then we could... discuss business?”

Bunnymund's eyes narrowed at North, and a heavy silence passed between them before the King cleared his throat, “If you wish to discuss something with me, then we shall, but at least have the manners to wait until after we eat.”

“Of course, my friend!” North agreed, “We will discuss afterwards, when we are away from the children.” and he glanced towards Jack. “But if you may permit, I think it would be suitable if my eldest son, Kozmotis, joined us.”

“The bastard child?” Bunnymund sneered, looking straight at the man as he said this. Pitch stiffened, but didn't respond, whereas Jack's head snapped up suddenly. His grip on his fork tightened, but when he looked to his half-brother, he saw he merely continued to eat.

“What he learns during our conversations could be used to teach Jackson. He is a fantastic teacher, after all.” North explained, and Bunnymund's eyes slid to North for a moment before darting back at Pitch. He stared the other down for a while longer before sighing and waving a dismissive hand.

“If it pleases you, I suppose I'll allow it.” He said weakly, and Jack clenched his jaw. He didn't like the way they talked of Pitch, and his irritation must have been obvious, since a few moments later he felt a hand touch his thigh.

Glancing over to his half-brother, Pitch signed to him under the table, asking if he was alright. Jack huffed and gestured to Pitch, returning the question. The older man seemed surprised, but ultimately bobbed his head, and Jack relaxed.

“Dad, I'm full,” Jamie complained as the servants swapped out their first course plates with the second course, which consisted of meats, bread, and a small bowl of soup, “I want to go play.”

“Shush, child, and eat your soup,” Bunnymund said softly, reaching out to stroke Jamie's hair affectionately, “And tell your sister to sit up straight.”

“Sophie, sit up,” Jamie echoed, turning to look at his sister, who was slouching in her chair. When she was proper, Jamie quickly grabbed his bowl and brought it to his lips, earning a scoff from his father.

“Jamie Bennett--!” Bunnymund hissed, but Jamie slammed the bowl down, empty, and sprang to his feet.

“ _Now_ can I go?” Jamie asked, leaning heavily on his father's seat, “Please?”

Bunnymund scowled at his son, but when Jamie pouted his lips at him, he rolled his eyes and sighed, “Fine, but you are getting a _very stern_ talking to at bedtime!”

Jamie laughed happily and propped himself up to kiss Bunnymund on the cheek, then he shot away and grabbed Sophie's hands, pulling her from her seat, “C'mon, Sophie! Let's go see their garden!”

The girl's face brightened at the word, and she slid out of her chair and followed her brother around the table. Jamie had headed for the door, then paused for a moment before he spun around and darted back towards the table, stopping beside Jack's chair and grabbing his hand. The guards directly behind him tensed, and Bunnymund's eyes shot up to them, immediately wary.

“Come show us the garden!” Jamie pleaded, and Jack blinked in surprise before he turned to look at his father and, more importantly, Pitch. The two of them glanced at once another, then Pitch nodded, gesturing his hand for Jack to take them.

Jamie's smile widened, and he tugged harder on Jack's sleeve until the Prince stood himself. Jamie's fingers curled around Jack's hand, then took his sister's hand as the Prince slowly led them out of the dining hall.

As they exited, Jack glanced back to see Pitch watching him while North and Bunnymund continued to speak in hushed tones, their voices only softly echoing. The doors slid behind him, then, and Jack was once again being pulled away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave comments, please! I hope you all are having as much fun reading this as i am writing it!


	8. The Festival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please comment! I'm sorry about this chapter, it was such a pain to write... I don't even know what went on though ugh.
> 
> Also I look forward to any constructive criticism anyone might have!

The door to Jack's bedroom swung open with such force that it made him and his chambermaid jump in surprise, though Jack relaxed substantially when his chambermaid huffed out, “Oh, Prince Kozmotis! You gave us a fright!”

Pitch stepped into the room, closing the door behind him, and gave a tired sigh as he approached Jack, finding his half-brother nearly done with getting ready for the day. Jack looked up at him through the mirror, a curious look in his eye as he studied Pitch's stressed features.

“Is something wrong?” Jack asked him, letting his chambermaid resume her work on his hair. Pitch huffed at his question, pacing back and forth behind Jack, and when the younger Prince realized Pitch was trying to decide whether or not to tell him, he rolled his eyes and said, “Pitch, if it bothers you so strongly, you _must_ tell me.”

Still looking doubtful, Pitch's pacing came to a stop, and he let out another long breath before he said weakly, “The discussion with King Bunnymund isn't going well... Father continues making offers of an alliance between our kingdoms, but he isn't even budging.”

“At all?” Jack asked, turning in his seat to look at the other, his expression incredulous, and it only grew when Pitch nodded.

“We've offered him nearly all we could—land, money, warships... He still refuses to even consider them!” He growled, running a hand through his hair stiffly, making the chambermaid click her tongue.

“My Lord, you'll muss your hair like that! Sit on the bed so I can fix it!” She huffed, but Pitch waved her away and smoothed down his own hair with his hands.

“So is there no hope?” Jack decided to ask, casting a wary glance at his chambermaid, who could only roll her eyes and mutter under her breath while she prepared Jack's veil and crown. Pitch looked back up at Jack, weary, then shrugged his shoulders.

“He agreed to at least stay for the full two weeks. He promises he will have a definite answer by then, but I fear we already know what the answer is, as he has been repeating it for the last day.” Pitch admitted, and Jack's brow furrowed.

“And he has given no hint to what might sway him?” Jack asked next, not able to believe how stubborn the King was being, “How could he not want an allegiance with us?”

“He has said nothing more than 'no', and 'not interested'.” Pitch shook his head, rubbing at his temples anxiously, “But if he won't budge, then we'll merely have to keep pushing. Hopefully, during these two weeks, we will be able to talk some sense into him.”

Jack sighed and turned back towards the mirror, allowing his chambermaid to veil and crown him, and when he was completely ready, Pitch stood and fixated his own veil and crown over his face. Jack stood as well, straightening out his robes, then fidgeting with his veil. Pitch watched him for a moment, then stepped up behind him and brushed his fingers against the bottom of the cloth. Gently rubbing the sheer cloth between his fingers, Pitch leaned down and whispered to Jack, “Politics aside... you must be excited for today.”

Pitch felt Jack breath hard, and could faintly see the smile beneath the veil. When Jack nodded, Pitch settled his hands on the teen's shoulders and chuckled. “And I believe I have made a promise to you concerning a certain performer.”

“C-Can I..?” Jack gasped weakly, turning to look at Pitch over his shoulder, and the man chuckled again before he stood up straight.

“Not yet,” He admitted, letting go of his half-brother, “But after the performance, yes.” Jack could barely contain his excitement at those words, and allowed a thrilled noise to pass through his throat. Pitch loved seeing Jack like this, and he shook his head fondly before saying, “Now come, we must arrive at the platform before the performance begins. I believe our visitors are there already with Father and the Queen. The Circus should be making their way to the gates, now.”

“Then let's hurry!” Jack said excitedly, grabbing Pitch's hand and his scepter, then tugging him towards the bedroom door, “I can't wait to see them! I'm certain it will be absolutely amazing!”

“Just remember the rules!” Pitch reminded him lightly, following Jack out of his bedchambers and down the hall, towards the courtyard where the platform was erected. On the wooden platform stood seven chairs, varying in height depending on who was meant to sit in them. The King sat in the center, his Queen to his right, and Jack and Pitch would sit right of her. To the left of the King sat Bunnymund, and to the left of him, his son and daughter.

Flanking both sides were the Royal Guard, spears at their sides. Jack felt a little bad for them since they would be standing for the whole performance, but he knew there wasn't anything he could really do for them. Besides, he was certain they would want to prove themselves as a whole to Pitch after what had happened the other day with Jack.

Pitch helped Jack up the stairs and onto the platform, and as the Prince sat, he saw Jamie leaning forward in his chair, waving enthusiastically at him. Jack smiled under his veil and lifted his hand, giving him the slightest wave back, and that seemed to quell the child.

As Jack settled in his seat, he looked out at the town, which seemed to be buzzing with as much excitement as the Prince himself. They would have heard of the Circus coming, of course, and such a celebration was rare these days in Northern Mesa. Besides, a day of celebration trumped a day of work, no matter the reason. The ones that looked up and saw King Bunnymund and his children seemed surprised, but nothing negative.

Barely a minute passed before a distant sound of trumpets sounded in the air, and down the road came the circus. They brought with them their entire entourage, non-performers included, three canvas-covered wagons, one of them certainly containing a beast as it rattled and shook more violently as it rolled through, and the Ringmaster was at the front of it, stomping his way down the street and shouting excitedly, “Come one come all for a very special performance! Witness the amazing Fire-breather!” And Snotlout blew an inferno of flame from his lips, though he kept it light, aiming to tantalize the people, “Experience the terror of the Twisting Twins!” Ruffnut and Tuffnut did cartwheels, then Ruffnut dropped down into a ball, allowing Tuffnut to roll her across the ground. “And take part in a once-in-a-lifetime experience of the Dragon Tamer!”

They whipped the canvas from one of the wagons, exposing a metal cage with a beast inside, one different than from what Jack had seen before. This beast was covered in grimy green scales, and two heads were snapping at the bars, one of them with gas spewing from its lips, and the other twitching with each spark it gave. However, what looked like a safety precaution was set in place, and a hefty bucket of water splashed down on the beast. While it enraged the creature, the smoke ceased and the sparks couldn't fly, and all the beast could do was roar.

However, Hiccup wasn't near them. Jack wasn't sure why, but he figured it might just be that his appearance was surprisingly underwhelming. What the Ringmaster had going so far was working, and he was attracting quite the crowd. They only stopped their parade when they reached the Castle Courtyard, standing before the platform.

“I hope your Majesties would enjoy our show!” The Ringmaster said, opening his arms in a welcoming gesture, “And please, be warned! This show can be dangerous towards the end, so keep those guards close!”

Bunnymund glanced towards North, obviously intrigued, and North gave him a grin in return.

In a heartbeat, the show began, and while Jack still remembered the last time he saw it, seeing it again was still as heart racing as before, however, seeing as he was veiled, he was unable to show it. He and Pitch were forced to stay quiet and appear uninterested, even as Snotlout wowed the crowd with his fire breathing tricks, Eret made everyone tremble as he swallowed blade after blade, and the Twins kept them laughing as they bickered and fought, though Jack was pretty sure it wasn't exactly following their performance agenda, especially when he saw the Ringmaster chewing at his fingernails.

Pretty women and talented individuals replaced one another as the show went on, and it was only when they neared Hiccup's performance did Jack notice Pitch writing something on a small piece of paper. Jack watched Pitch hand it to a guard, who promptly relayed it to their Father, who looked at the parchment and rolled his eyes. He whispered to the guard, getting a small from the man, and who then walked back to Pitch and whispered to him.

Pitch nodded his head in response, then wrote something down on another piece of paper and handed it to Jack. The young Prince's brow furrowed, but he opened it up and read it.

“ _Guess who's taking part in the Dragon Tamer's performance?”_ was all it read, but it was all Jack needed to know. He pressed his lips together excitedly, refusing to break his veil oath now that he was promised to be up close and personal with Hiccup once more.

Jack looked back to the performance just in time to notice the Ringmaster staring intently at him and his brother, then turning to whisper something quickly into one of the stage-hand's ears. The young woman looked uncertain, but didn't fight it, and she nodded before she ran off for one of the wagons, disappearing inside.

When the last performer stepped away from the center of the courtyard, the Ringmaster stepped up and shouted, “Your Majesties, we simply cannot wait any longer! Forgive us for our haste, but might I present to you our most anticipated performance: The Dragon Tamer!”

He gestured wildly with his hands as the stagehands rushed to pull the dragon's cage to the center. The guards around them seemed to tense, a few of them glancing Pitch's way, and even the Ringmaster seemed to be eyeing the elder Prince, looking for some kind of approval, but getting none.

Then, all eyes turned to the performer who was now being rushed onstage, and an uncertain quiet came over them. Hiccup stumbled to the center, then cleared his throat and looked around, knowing that this doubtful quiet was what ultimately marked the beginning of his performance. With a soft sigh, Hiccup stood up straighter and put on his show-face, grinning wide at those around him, but barely casting a glance to the Royals he was meant to be impressing.

“Welcome all! I am happy you have all come to see our show, and I bet you are all so glad you don't have to pay this time,” And he gave a few nearby commoners a wink, earning a shy, awkward giggle from a girl. Turning away, Hiccup continued, “I am Horrendous, the Dragon Tamer. I gained my power from the Gods, and have trained myself to use them properly! If anyone else is to try this, they are sure to fail!”

His tone was serious, but he still smiled. Jack felt himself sigh at that smile. He only wished it was directed at him.

Without further ado, Hiccup gestured for them to open the cage, something vastly different from his first performance. Jack leaned forward in his seat, his eyes wide. The beast was quick to try to escape, clawing its way out of the cage and snapping at anyone who was too close—Hiccup included. The redhead didn't seem fazed, though, even when the crowds around him shrieked and attempted to back away, though their eyes stayed glue to the scene before them. Hiccup glanced at them for a moment, then grinned to himself, and he stood his ground as he began to growl and hiss much like the dragon.

The two headed beast focused on the redhead, looking unimpressed, but Hiccup continued to growl, speaking earnestly to it. The creature looked at itself, its heads murmuring to each other, then they lowered to listen to Hiccup speak. The people around them settled slowly, their eyes wide as they witnessed the typically volatile beast calming in the presence of this lanky boy. Hiccup lifted a hand, his voice growing softer, and the beasts eyes began to droop. Both of its heads leaned forward, then promptly bumped into one another, and it was back to snapping at each other.

Hiccup smiled, a light laugh bubbling from his chest, and he held out his other hand as well, allowing both heads a place to rest their snouts. The dragon cooed and nuzzled against Hiccup's hands, and the redhead proceeded to pet its heads and scratch underneath its chins, before addressing the crowd with a proud, “The beast is tamed!”

The crowd 'oohed in amazement, and a gentle round of applause came from them, and the Kings as well. Hiccup finally looked up to the platform, but he gave them all a sly smirk, absolutely devoid of respect. Jack was starting to find his disregard for royalty sort of attractive. His cocky personality was what really pushed it, Jack realized, but he wouldn't have changed a thing about him.

“Now, to prove the beast's loyalty!” Hiccup called, and a stagehand ran up to Hiccup's side, handing him a fat looking chicken that squawked and struggled in her grip. Hiccup took it from her, struggling with it for a second, then tied a ribbon around its body, keeping its wings pressed against the torso.

Hiccup turned to the dragon, who's eyes were glued on the struggling chicken before it, but Hiccup growled sternly at it, snapping its eyes back to him. A few grumbles came from the redhead, the dragon listening intently. When Hiccup set the chicken down and stepped away, it clucked loudly and began scurrying away, and Hiccup stepped back from the dragon and waved at it.

The beast followed the chicken slowly, its four eyes narrowing, and before the chicken was able to slip away in the crowd, the dragon leapt at it, trapping the bird between its front paws. Slowly, it lowered its head upon the bird, and while it looked as though the beast was about to eat it, it actually slipped its teeth just underneath the ribbon, and lifted the creature from that.

Showing that the bird was still alive, the crowd gave a gasp and began to clap, and Hiccup grinned took a short bow. However, that wasn't the end of it.

“Now, who wants to ride the dragon?!” Hiccup called out, and the clapping suddenly stopped, just like it had during the first performance Jack had seen. Hiccup grinned wide, rubbing his hands together cleverly as he looked amongst the people he could choose from, but before he was able to point one out, the King stood and cleared his throat, catching everyone's attention.

“For your final trick, I ask for you to allow my son, Prince Jackson, to take part.” He announced, and Hiccup's eyes flickered right to Jack, and he scowled.

Okay, Jack took back what he thought about his insolence from before. He liked it only when it wasn't directed solely at him.

Hiccup looked like he was about to refuse, but the Ringmaster rushed onstage and grabbed Hiccup's arm, saying quickly and delightedly, “Of course, Your Majesty! We will be more than pleased to entertain your Highness if he so wishes!”

Hiccup looked almost pained as Jack got up to his feet and was helped off of the platform, then escorted to the stage. The guards stood in posts around the opening the crowd made, much like numbers on a clock, all completely prepared to rush in and rescue Jack if they needed to, but Jack knew they wouldn't need to. He trusted Hiccup, no matter how much the redhead seemed to loathe royalty.

As Jack drew closer, he could hear the Ringmaster hiss into Hiccup's ear, “You better not mess this up,” before he let go of his arm and stepped away, letting Jack and Hiccup interact one on one. Jack smiled underneath his veil, lifting a hand to give a gentle wave to the redhead, but Hiccup merely scowled and shook his head.

“C'mere,” Hiccup grunted, gesturing to Jack to come closer, “I'm gunna bring her close, so don't freak out.”

Jack shook his head, silently saying he wouldn't, and Hiccup lifted a hand, coaxing the two-headed beast towards them. When the creature's heads both bumped against Hiccup's palm, he took Jack's arm and lifted it as well, letting them take in his scent, then bump against his palm, too.

“A dragon never forgets a scent,” Hiccup called out to the crowds, turning this way and that to look them all in the eye, “And if you're good to them, they will be good to you.”

The beast let out a gentle croon, one that Jack was sure meant they liked him. He went ahead and stroked one of their snouts, getting a jealous huff from the other, so he lightly patted that one as well. As he enjoyed their scaly texture, Hiccup stepped closer to him and whispered to him, “Why don't you say anything? The Ringmaster thinks you and your brother don't like the show.”

Jack pressed his lips together, still keeping his silence, but he looked at Hiccup from the corner of his eye, and the redhead was looking at him, though his eyes were hard and uncaring. When Hiccup realized Jack wasn't going to say anything still, he rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath, annoyed. Jack tried to keep from taking it personally, but he really wished Hiccup didn't act so bitter around him.

“Now he will ride the beast!” Hiccup shouted, making Jack flinch from how loud he was. It was surprising, the volume the skinny man could hold. Jack peered over to his father, who suddenly looked uncertain, but he saw Pitch passing the man a note to calm his nerves. Then, he glanced over to the Ringmaster, who looked absolutely red in the face, and hissed just underneath the cacophony of the crowd cheering for Hiccup not to do anything stupid.

The two-headed beast slowly lowered its body to the ground, along with both heads, and Hiccup turned to look at Jack, giving him an unimpressed shrug. “Get on and hurry up. Make sure you straddle their necks, just behind their skulls. These beasts are dizzy creatures so you gotta make sure you hold on, alright?” and he held out his hand to assist Jack with getting on.

The Prince smiled lightly, sliding his hand in Hiccup's gracefully, and he picked up his ropes with his other hand while still trying to hold his scepter. He straddled the dragon's neck carefully, seating himself just behind the skull like he was told to. When he was comfortable, Hiccup gestured to the beast, and suddenly Jack was being lifted into the air. He gasped a bit noisily and quickly clung to the creature's neck, but when he realized he wasn't going to slide off any time soon, he slowly sat up straighter.

Looking out at the people around him, Jack suddenly felt a sense of power flow through him, and he began to understand why Hiccup loved dragons so much. He could feel the warmth beneath him, could feel the vibrations of each growl and grunt the beast made, and when he looked down at Hiccup, he saw that awed look on his face, his eyes completely lit up with Jack's beauty.

Okay, so he _really_ liked how Hiccup looked at him sometimes, even if it was just because he was the prince.

When the dragon lowered itself once more and allowed Hiccup to help Jack down, Jack bowed to him as a silent thank you, then discreetly brushed his hand down Hiccup's forearm, hoping to convey the adoration Jack held for the man. Hiccup's awestruck expression turned to one of confusion, then distrust, and he went right back to crossing his arms and huffing at Royalty. With an amused shake of his head, Jack hurried back to his seat upon the platform.

As he made himself comfortable, his father stood up and announced, “Such wonderful performances from such a fantastic circus! We thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedules to entertain our town, and as a kind gesture, we invite you to stay within the castle walls for the remaining duration of our guest, King Bunnymund's visit!”

The crowds all cheered at the offer, and Bunnymund's children both cried out in excitement, rushing out of their seats to bother their father about how thrilled they were to see these very performers over and over again for the next week or so. Jack and Pitch shared a casual glance before Jack looked out to the performers, and seeing Hiccup look thoroughly distraught. He looked like he was about to refuse when the Ringmaster stepped up to his side and gripped his arm tight, whispering something heated into his ear.

Staying silent, Hiccup lowered his head and clenched his jaw, and the decision was made. The festival continued in the town, but Jack, Jamie, and Sophie were sent away to the castle, while North, Pitch, Bunnymund, and the Queen focused on discussing politics. Pitch had pulled Jack aside for just a moment before he warned the boy not to stray from his room, lest he be caught up in the middle of the performers getting situated in the castle.

When he was finally alone, Jack immediately stripped out of his clothes. He knew the castle was busy at the moment, and it was just chaotic enough for him to believe his plan to work. Slipping on his commoner clothes, Jack pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and rushed out of his room, ducking his head and blending in with the rush of people. He was going to see Hiccup and congratulate him or else.

He had to act quickly, but carefully. If even one guard or maid caught sight of his ever familiar face, he would be nabbed and punished as swiftly as he thought up the plan. And if Pitch caught wind of Jack's current attempt to shirk his royal duties, the young prince would never hear the end of it. That was why, when he was suddenly stopped by a rather annoyed little Prince, he felt his heart hammer to a stop and his throat clench up.

“You! Servant boy!” Jamie called out, running in front of Jack and stopping him with a firm stance, crossed arms and all, “It's practically night! My sister is tired and wants to go to bed, so hurry up and help us change or else I'll tell on you!”

Jack had to blink at the sudden rudeness that came from the little Prince, but he knew that if he refused, he would only get in even more trouble. Glancing up to where his cover—two maids carrying a thick pile of blankets—was going, Jack realized he was stuck, and with a sigh, he followed Jamie back down the hall and into their shared bedroom.

There had been two beds placed for the children, but it looked like they had no problems sleeping together, since Sophie was already sitting on the bed that Jamie ran and jumped onto, giggling. Jack rolled his eyes to himself, a small smile coming to his lips, and he quickly went over to the closet to grab their bedclothes. When he got two nightgowns, he went over to the children and set them down beside them, then eyed them both critically before gesturing to Jamie.

The young Prince hopped off the bed and onto his feet, then stuck both arms in the air, allowing Jack to quickly tug his tunic from his head. Next came Jamie's pants, which the boy easily shimmied out of. When he was naked, Jack grabbed the first nightgown and quickly tugged it over the boy's head, then bent down to tighten the drawstrings around his neck.

Next was Sophie, who looked a lot more concerned about the whole situation, and at first refused to move from her spot on the bed. Jamie crawled up right next to her and held her hands, saying in a gentle voice, “It's okay, Soph, he's just a servant, he's not going to hurt you.”

The little girl looked nervously at Jamie, then up at Jack before she closed her eyes and shook her head, whining loudly. Jack clicked his tongue, then knelt down beside the bed, catching her attention.

He opened his mouth to speak, but found it particularly hard to do in the presence of two other children of royalty. Still, he forced the words to come out, and he asked in a soft voice, “Would you prefer if I merely handed you your bedclothes and you dress yourself? Your brother is sure to help you if you need it.”

Sophie looked at Jack with a worried frown, then squeezed Jamie's hands and nodded. Jack smiled at her, picking up the nightgown and handing it to her, then he helped her down from the bed and allowed her to take off behind the curtains so she could dress. She was silent for a good five minutes before she called out in a whimpering voice, “Jamie!” and her brother hopped off the bed and rushed after her, whispering to her encouragement as he helped her into her bedclothes.

When they were both ready for bed and getting tucked in, Jack let out a relieved breath and turned to leave, hoping that the panic in the castle didn't die down enough for Jack's plan to fail. He was nearly to the door when Jamie called out again.

“Hey! Where are you going? You're supposed to read us a story!” Jamie complained, and Jack froze for a moment before he peered over his shoulder.

“I... don't know any stories,” He lied, and Jamie crossed his arms and raised a brow, letting Jack know that he wasn't buying it. Pressing his lips into a line, Jack reluctantly gave in and went back to the bed, sitting at the very end and wracking his mind for any childhood story he remembered. Jamie and Sophie looked at him expectantly, Jamie's arms still firmly crossed, and Jack felt the pressure build up until one finally popped to the front of his mind.

Jack bit his lip, looking over the both of them, then he leaned towards them and began in a soft, mystifying voice, “Once upon a time... in a land much like this, where the snowstorms leveled mountains and the ice coated the ocean, there lived an old man, a little baby boy, and a precious, hidden treasure, worth more than a thousand kingdoms could offer.

“The old man was nearing death, and he knew it would be only days in the frigid cold world he lived in until he passed, but that old man had a dream: to make the world he lived in a beautiful place with beautiful plants and valiant animals, so that the little baby boy would live better. He wasted his life away, trying potion after potion, spell after spell, all in a vain attempt to change the seasons, even if it were just for a month.

“When all else failed, the old man recalled an ancient myth, one that told of a magical treasure hidden at the very bottom of a frozen lake, with the power to hold all the strength of the eternal snowstorm he lived in. The man knew this was his last chance to change the world for the baby boy, and he accepted the challenge with a vigor.

“He cut into the lake as viciously as he could, working day and night tirelessly. He tore away the ice, creating a deep impression on the earth. He continued to dig until the snow no longer reached him, and the earth around him grew warm. He felt his body growing weak the more he worked, but he refused to stop, lest it all be for naught.

“On his very last day, the old man's shovel struck a rock, one that was impossible to break. Taking hold of the heavy stone, the old man carefully brushed away the dirt, and when he held it up to the light, he found in his hand a beautiful blue crystal that gleamed in the sun. Excited, he quickly climbed the mountain he had created from his digging, and when he reached the snowy lands he had lived in his entire life, he thrust the crystal into the snow. The magic inside burst to life, and in seconds, the horrific, eternal snowstorm that enveloped his land was sucked into it.

“However, the old man underestimated the power of the gem. While the snowstorm was vast, it wasn't enough for the powerful gem, and it sucked the soul of the old man into it as well. The little baby boy, now left alone, cried to the heavens, and the Gods above looked upon him in mercy.

“A single tear drop fell from the clouds, splashing upon the crystal and enveloping it in a beautiful ice-blue orb, sealing away its powers, only to be activated once more when the little baby boy wished it. When the boy grew, he found the orb and crafted it into a scepter, and with its sealed power, only able to be unlocked by his hand, he created Northern Mesa, and began our reign.”

As he finished, he looked upon the children, seeing Sophie fast asleep and tucked tight against her brother's side, and Jamie's eyes drooping. The little Prince clung to consciousness, though, and he blinked up at Jack and said in a soft voice, “Wow... that was a nice story.”

“Thank you,” Jack smiled, surprised that it had been good enough to sate the bratty child, “And now its time for you to rest, My Prince.”

Jamie pouted a little, but he laid back with his sister and wrapped a protective arm around her. Jack watched him for a bit more, then carefully got up from the bed, only to be stopped when Jamie called out to him, “Servant boy? Can you stay for a little?”

Jack furrowed his brow and looked back at him, then glanced back at the door before sighing and nodding, going back to the bed and sitting a bit closer to Jamie. “What is it, Little Prince?”

“The orb in the story. The orb with the crystal, you said it ate the old man's soul.” Jamie said, rubbing at his eyes with his small hand before he looked up at Jack, “Does that mean his soul was destroyed?”

Jack smiled, then shook his head and brushed a careful hand through Jamie's hair, in an attempt to smooth him, much like how his own chambermaid would when he had been scared by the bedtime stories she had told him, “No, My Prince. His soul, while trapped inside the crystal, would live forever. From the crystal, he watches over us, whispering his wisdom in the King's ear. Inside the crystal, he is immortal. As do the souls of every past King and Prince who had held the scepter. As does the soul of the little baby boy the old man had risked everything for.”

Jamie blinked up at Jack, a thoughtful look in his eyes, then he asked in a small voice, “If my mother had the scepter... would she have been alive in there, too?”

Jack's smile fell, his eyes filling with surprise. Such a sudden question it was, one that Jack hadn't expected to hear. Thinking back to what he knew about Bunnymund's wife, he realized he didn't understand the circumstances of her death, aside from her being deathly ill. He knew the scepter would work in the hands of a royal—any royal, in fact—and it definitely had the potential to encase her soul along with the rest it held. Yet, would that have changed anything?

“I apologize, but I... I know next to nothing about her death,” Jack whispered, turning his head away with a frown, “I wouldn't know if--”

“She had been sick,” Jamie said, cutting Jack off with his soft voice, “Dad said she was on her death bed, even when she had us,” He glanced at Sophie, still sleeping soundly, “He told me that he had come here one night in a panic, carrying with him her almost lifeless body. He threw himself onto his hands and knees before King North, begging him for a way to save her. He had heard from tales of old that the King held a scepter with the power to save souls, and he vowed to give him anything if the King would merely let him borrow it for a fortnight. He believed the scepter, when in the hand of our mother, would heal her and give her life, and he told this to the King, who cruelly turned him down.

“Scorned, our dad brought mother back to Gradina, and he took from his very own gardens until he could find a cure. He said he had done all he could, and had elongated her life long enough for her to give birth to the two of us, but a week after Sophie came into the world, she was gone...”

Jamie laid back in his bed again, hugging Sophie close with his eyes sliding shut. Jack watched the child with wide eyes, guilt churning in his gut, though he understood why his father would refuse such a trade. If the scepter had reached her hands, her death would have been immediate, and Bunnymund would only blame Jack's family more. Jamie had began to fall asleep, so Jack thought it finally time for him to leave. Getting up from the bed, he nearly missed it when the little Prince whispered, “Dad is... such a nice man, servant boy. I hope the Gods will forgive us.”

Jack hesitated at that, turning back to look upon the now sleeping prince. His heart twisted painfully, and he wanted to run his fingers through the boy's hair and tell him it wasn't his or his sister's fault that their mother had passed. He wanted to tell them that these things happened, and that no matter how nice a person was, sin always followed them. He wanted to tell that that if his father had given Bunnymund the scepter, Jamie and Sophie would have never come to be. He wanted them to understand that in this cruel blizzard of a world, even the thing that could save them would also destroy them in the end, and that the most they could do is embrace the time they had.

But such painful thoughts were too much for Jack to handle. He repressed them with a pained gulp, dismissing Jamie's plight with the thought that it was something he shouldn't concern himself with. It wasn't his story to take a part of, and at this point, so late after the death of their mother, there was absolutely nothing Jack could do to fix it.

With a desire to be comforted, Jack left the Prince and Princess' shared room. Heading down the steps, he was even more than determined to find Hiccup's bedchambers. Even if the Dragon Tamer didn't want to see him, Jack thought it necessary to find him and thank him for the stupendous performance he had put on.

And, if Hiccup _did_ want to see him again, Jack would gladly fill the empty space in his chest with Hiccup's company.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter features our favorite lil redhead once more!


	9. Jack and Hiccup Pt. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> abuse/non-con later on in this chapter. Nothing too intense, just a warning.

Jack peered around the corner of the hall, cursing under his breath. He had been too delayed by the Prince and Princess of Gradina that the rush the castle servants were in had begun to die down. At this point, Jack would only risk being found if he continued to search for Hiccup.

Deciding he had gone too far already, Jack pressed on, quickly walking down the hall, thankful that his slippers made little noise on the marble floors. He was heading to the guest hall, where the performers would be staying. They usually used that hall for less important people, like entertainers or wandering traders with precious items. Another hall was being used by Jamie, Sophie, and King Bunnymund, though it lied between Jack's bedchambers and this lesser hall.

The walls held torches to light Jack's way, casting a rather long shadow down the hall, but he tried his best to keep anyone from noticing. He was nearly halfway there when he ran into his first few maids, who were carrying more linens and whispering to themselves.

“Those Circus People demand so much!” One of them complained, carrying a thick pile of blankets while the other carried sleeping robes, “Have they no shame?”

“They are separated from proper civilization, dear,” The older one sighed, shaking her head, “Of course they will ask for all they can take in this sort of situation!”

Jack pressed his back hard against the wall, grateful that a heavy shadow cast over him, keeping him out of their sights as they bustled along. They must be headed for the guest hall, Jack realized, and he waited until they turned another corner before he quietly stalked after them. Hopefully these two maids would be the only ones headed there, and Jack would only have to worry about slipping into Hiccup's room before they finished handing out the requested items.

However, following them down the guest hall also meant an easier time finding Hiccup. Since maids couldn't be within closed doors with a guest—aside from chambermaids, but they were only used for the more important ones—Jack would be able to hear the different voices. He could only hope that Hiccup spoke to them.

When he finally reached the guest hall, he peered around the corner and watched as the maids began opening doors and handing out the items, staying relatively near the doorway as they did so. Jack listened to the cacophony of 'thank you's as they went down the hall, each one obviously not Hiccup, and he felt a little anxious when they got closer to the end of the hall. Would they have put him elsewhere? Perhaps he refused the offer to stay and went away? Jack feared the worst, and was so wrapped up in his own scenarios that he nearly missed it when the maid opened one door, only to screech and throw herself back, followed by a rather surprised chuckle.

Hiccup appeared in the doorway, holding Toothless of all dragons in his arms, who was currently kicked and squirming to try and get out of his grip.

“Sorry about him!” Hiccup apologized quickly, smoothing his hand a few times over Toothless' head to soothe him, though the beast continued to struggle, “He's just a little territorial is all! Um... you can just leave the extra stuff by the door, I'll get it when you two leave.”

He apologized a second time before he shut the door, and the maid who had fallen huffed and silently fumed, throwing his blanket and robe onto the floor beside it before stomping off.

“Marie!” The other maid called after her, “Where are you—Marie, we still have one more hall!” but her cries went unheard as the maid stormed away, leaving the older one on her own. With a sigh, she shook her head and handed out the rest of the blankets to the last two guests, then followed after Marie in an attempt to soothe her. With the hallway now quiet, Jack sprang into action, and he rushed down the hall with a grin on his face.

When he reached Hiccup's door, he quickly scooped up the blankets and robes Marie had left him, bundling them up into a haphazard ball. He struggled to open the door, then, but managed to twist the knob with one hand, then using his hip to bump it open. Immediately, he spotted Hiccup sitting on his bed and Toothless underneath, and the redhead looked up and began to say, “Hey, I told you, just leave it--” but he fell silent when he realized who was standing there.

“Jack?” He gasped, standing up in a rush, and Jack grinned at him and kicked the door behind him closed.

“I believe someone ordered an extra sheet and some robes?” Jack said, lifting the bundle up a little before he tossed it at Hiccup, who floundered to catch it, “Hey, Hiccup.”

“Where have you been?” Hiccup asked first, tossing the sheet and robe onto his bed and walking up to Jack. The Prince flinched from the suddenness and quickly stepped back, though he met with the door once more, “I've waited every night since the lake for you! I waited for you to come!”

“I-I told you, it's difficult to get away,” Jack breathed, his heart racing with how close and how _angry_ Hiccup looked, and he was beginning to think that he had made a rather big mistake.

“What are you even doing here? Don't tell me you broke into the castle! Don't you know what Royals will do to you?!” Hiccup asked next, gesturing wildly to nowhere, and Jack blinked hard a few times before shaking his head, silent.

And then, that angry look on Hiccup's face melted, and he said in a quieter voice, “I missed you, Jack... I was starting to think that you didn't like me...”

“What?” Jack huffed, his fear draining from him in seconds and being replaced with irritation, “That's ridiculous, Hiccup! You know I like you!” and he placed a hand on Hiccup's arm to get him to calm down further. The redhead considered Jack's words for a moment, then sighed and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Jack could feel his heart race again.

“Sit with me?” Hiccup asked him, pulling away from the hug and taking Jack's hands instead. When the Prince nodded, Hiccup smiled at him and pulled him towards the window seat. They both sat together, close enough that their knees bumped against each other, though neither one of them minded. Toothless watched them carefully from under the bed, and when he deemed Jack not a threat, he wiggled himself out from there and carefully made his way towards them. Hiccup glanced over at him before smiling.

“You remember Toothless, right? He might be a little nervous around you, he didn't pick up a scent from you before.” Hiccup explained quickly, and Jack carefully leaned down, extending a hand for the dragon to sniff.

“That's okay. We were pretty wet, anyways,” Jack recalled, blushing from the memory, and when he glanced up at Hiccup, he saw he was blushing too. Toothless sniffed at Jack's hand for a while, then lightly licked his fingers before he darted up onto the window seat and settled in Hiccup's lap. Curling up like a cat, Toothless closed his eyes and huffed tiredly.

“I saw your show,” Jack said softly, leaning towards Hiccup and resting a hand on his knee, “You were magnificent, Hiccup. You truly made my heart stop.”

The redhead's cheeks bloomed and he smiled bashfully, shrugging his shoulders a bit and muttering, “It wasn't much, really... But honestly, I sort of wish I could have chosen someone else for the final act.”

Jack's brow furrowed at that, and he leaned back once more before asking, “How come? Did the prince do something?”

“No, it's nothing like that, it's just... He's a Royal, Jack. They already have the world going for them. You and I both know what it's like to be... well... like us. Besides, he was completely silent the entire show. What's the point of bringing someone onstage when they did even enjoy it?” Hiccup explained, and Jack's eyes flickered down for a moment in thought before he pressed his lips into a line and crossed his arms.

“Well... I might not be him, but I'm certain he enjoyed your show very much. I know I did, and I know the rest of the town did. Just because he couldn't show it like you're used to doesn't mean he didn't absolutely love it, Hiccup. You know, I'd... I'd give _anything_ to see you perform with your dragons again.”

Hiccup looked at Jack, his eyes wide with surprise and even pride, and he smiled to himself before mentioning, “You know... they're keeping my dragons down in the dungeons... We could sneak down there for a little while and I can show you a few more tricks.”

“Oh?” Jack smirked, catching the playful look in Hiccup's eyes, “And what sort of tricks will you show me, Dragon Tamer?”

“There are plenty, of course. Which would you like to see?” Hiccup grinned, scooting a little bit closer, causing Toothless to squirm then launch himself off of his lap, hiding under the bed again. Jack leaned into him with a smile.

“Hmm well, I've heard all about your dragon taming skills,” Jack said, his voice dropping to a purr which he could see physically affecting Hiccup, and he loved it, “But I was wondering if the Dragon Tamer knew any _tricks_ himself?”

Hiccup's grin turned sly, and he slowly placed his hand upon Jack's thigh, sliding it up and down in slow, smooth strokes. He leaned in close to the Prince, his lips brushing against his ear, and Jack shuddered in his touch, his eyelids fluttering for a moment. When Hiccup replied, he did so in a whisper, with a voice that grated so huskily in the back of his throat that Jack had to hold back a desperate whimper.

“Perhaps if you stay a night with me, I'll show you a trick or two...” He said, and he immediately began to pull back, but Jack didn't let him go far. Placing his hand on the back of Hiccup's neck, they met eyes for only a moment before Jack was leaning into him. Hiccup's eyes slid closed, his head tilting in anticipation of a kiss.

Their lips brushed together just slightly when the door was thrown open, startling the two apart. In the doorway were two of the Royal Guard, and they glowered at the Prince when they saw him.

Jack barely had a second to try to explain himself to Hiccup or the Guards when they marched over and grabbed him by his biceps, tugging him onto his feet and towards the door. Hiccup gasped when it started, and he followed after them in a panic, shouting, “Stop! Hey, let him go! Th-That's a fellow performer you're grabbing, okay?! You can't just throw him out!”

But the guards ignored Hiccup's lies, and while Jack was grateful that he had tried to stand up for him, he knew he was in big trouble. He didn't realize how big until he was thrown into his bedchambers with the door locked behind him.

“Hey!” He shouted, going to the heavy wooden door and banging his fists against it, “What are you doing?! You can't lock me up in here!”

He slammed his fists against it a few more times before the door jiggled and swung open, nearly smacking Jack in the face. He backed up to avoid it, then backed up even further, to the point of him falling back onto his bed, when he saw Pitch enter. The older prince slammed the door shut behind him and strode right up to Jack, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and tugging him up so they could look each other in the eye.

“What the _hell_ were you thinking, you _imbecile!_ ” Pitch roared, throwing Jack back onto the bed only to look over him and the clothes he was wearing, “And where did you get these commoner's clothes?!” Shaking his head, Pitch decided to get straight to the point, and he thrust a threatening finger in the Prince's face, snarling out, “Jackson Overland Frost, you better explain yourself, or so help me, I will chain you to your bed!”

Jack knew Pitch wasn't merely attempting to scare Jack. Pitch had made many ridiculous promises of punishments to plenty of people, and he had followed up on every single one. Feeling his lips begin to tremble, Jack spilled out the whole truth in one rushed breath, in hopes that if he spoke fast enough, Pitch would miss a few of the worst bits.

“Okay! Okay, I-I crept out of Castle Town a few nights ago because I wanted to see the Wandering Circus, and when I went I met Hiccup and the other performers and I just _had_ to see him—them--again so I went back out there the next night and met with Hiccup—and the others—and I had such a _great_ time, Pitch, but I knew you wouldn't have approved! I learned so much just from those two nights out there, and I wanted to learn so much more, and when you said we would have the Circus _here_ , I knew I could see Hiccup again! I know it was risky what with King Bunnymund around, but I _don't care!_ I _had_ to see him again, Pitch!”

He gasped for air after that, his eyes teary and wide, begging for just an inkling of forgiveness, but all he saw in Pitch's eyes were rage. He looked like he wanted to strike Jack, but was only _just_ holding himself back.

“You _knew_ it was risky?” Pitch spat back at him, his eyes narrowed considerably, “You _knew_ , but you didn't care? Fine, Jack. Since you _knew_ it was risky, then I suppose you would have _known_ that if you had been caught, you could have not only put yourself in danger of assassination or kidnap, you could have single-handedly ended the already strained relationship between us and Gradina, perhaps to the point of putting us at _war_ , and at the same time, you could have _ended our generation of royalty!_ Pray tell, Jackson, what would you have done had you been snatched? Sold into slavery? Quartered and sold in _pieces_?! Did you know that you _risked_ our kingdom's future for your foolish _night out?!”_

“So what?!” Jack yelled back, getting on his knees on the bed and clenching his hands into fists, shoving at Pitch, “I'm tired of thinking about a future that doesn't even concern me! I'm tired of putting everyone else's need before mine! I'm tired of never doing anything to make myself happy just because you think it's not _proper_! Just because I went and had two nights of fun doesn't mean the world is going to end!”

Pitch sneered at his words, and with a snap of his fingers, shadows wrapped around Jack's wrists and yanked him against the bed, forcing him to lay back. Jack's eyes widened and he struggled against the sudden binds, but then Pitch was grabbing him by his chin and forcing him to look.

“You disrespectful, self-obsessed little brat! Do you have _any_ idea how much _work_ I've put into you? How much time I spent trying to craft you into the perfect, obedient little prince? I have done so much for you, and you decide to throw it _all_ away just for a night out and a _boy!_ ”

“Oh, quiet! All this talk of you 'shaping' me and 'perfecting' me—it's ridiculous! You and I both know you're only doing this because _you_ want the throne! I bet you'd be happy if I died! I bet you wished for the day I was kidnapped and quartered!” Jack bit back, struggling still, though Pitch's grip on his chin was inescapable, “If I died, the throne would be all yours, wouldn't it?!”

“You don't understand anything!” Pitch hissed, “Why I do these things for you, why I suffer so much for your well-being! My own existence is tied into you, Jack! And I would not stand it if everything I have sacrificed is for naught!”

And then, with his rage fueling him and his hands clamping down on either side of Jack's face, Pitch suddenly bent down over him, slamming his lips against Jack's own. The touch was meant to be heartfelt, meant to be tender and explanatory in itself, and while Pitch poured all of his emotion into it, Jack only grew stiff and horrified. Twisting harder under Pitch's grasp, the young Prince began to realize the sort of predicament he was in, and was terrified of the implications. An even more pressed fear was the fact that he knew he wouldn't be able to squirm his way out from under him.

Pitch broke away from the kiss when Jack's muffled whimpering turned into a squeal, but he mistook the fear in Jack's eyes with shock. Brushing his hands down the sides of Jack's face with the intention of showing care, he whispered to the boy, “I love you so dearly, Jack... I wish for nothing more than to hold you to me and _prove_ to you that it is true.”

Jack began to shake his head, tears bubbling in the corners of his eyes, and he all but sobbed out a plea, “Let me go... Pitch, just let me go...” but the elder Prince only looked pained at his words, and made no move to retract the shadows that chained Jack down.

“I can show you, Jack. I can prove to you that all you need is here, within these castle walls. I can make you realize that no matter where you go outside Castle Town, you will never find someone who loves you as deeply as I.” Pitch continued, his eyes growing possessive, and his hands going down Jack's neck, over his collarbones and torso, then pushing the cloth of his tunic up, “No longer will the thought of some tawdry circus performer cloud your judgment.”

“Get off of me!” Jack shrieked, and from the corner of the bed where his staff lay untouched, the gem inside glowed a powerful ice blue. The light filled the room so quickly the two princes barely had time to squeeze their eyes shut, but for Pitch, it didn't even matter. He was blown off of Jack in a flurry or ice, snow, and electricity, slamming him against the stone walls of Jack's bedchambers. The shadows he had used to hold his half-brother down disintegrated, and Jack sat up in a flurry to see what had just happened.

As the bright light dimmed, casting the room back in it's torch-lit glow, Jack looked upon his half-brother in horror and even the slightest touch of guilt. Pitch had slid to the ground, his knees pulled him defensively as he pressed a hand against the center of his chest, which bloomed with shards of ice and blood. His face was wild and deranged, and when Jack attempted to reach out for him, calling out his name in worry that he had lethally injured him, Pitch snarled and pressed himself harder against the stone wall.

“Pitch, I-I didn't... I don't know what... _why did you do that?”_ Jack questioned with a sob, scared not only for his brother's health and what had made the staff react so powerfully, but for his own safety here, alone with a man who had tried to... Jack didn't want to think about it. Pitch only looked more and more confused and hurt, and while the ice was melting fast, the sharp tears in his tunic and the blood that still welled from his skin was enough to prove to Jack that he could have killed him.

The pain didn't seem to be affecting Pitch entirely just yet, however, and the elder Prince clawed at the wall and forced himself to his feet, heading straight for the door without answer and tugging it open. He hesitated in the doorway for only a moment, considering if he should say anything to Jack, and with a ragged breath, he warned the boy.

“If you sneak out once more, Jack... If you do this again while King Bunnymund is here... You will truly regret it.”

Jack tried to swallow down his fear, but his throat was much too dry to accommodate the movement. His staff glowed dimly again at the threat, and when he didn't answer, Pitch leered over his shoulder at him.

“Promise me you will refrain from sneaking out any more so long as he is here. Promise me you will not see that boy.” Pitch growled, and Jack felt his entire body begin to freeze.

“I promise.” He whispered, his voice just barely audible, but it was enough for Pitch. With a grunt, the elder prince walked out of the room and slammed the door shut, making Jack flinch from the noise.

Jack's breath came out in a shudder, his tunic still mussed and his wrists aching, and he had licked his chapped lips before fighting back a violent gag when he thought he could still taste Pitch on them. He fumbled for his staff blindly, grasping its handle tightly and pulling it into a hug. As he felt the soothing powers wash over him, he began to cry, shaken by the night's events and wanting nothing more than to forget. As he laid curled up atop his sheets, crying himself to sleep, a single thought reared itself to the front of Jack's mind, and with a new determination, he made a promise to himself.

Nothing would stop him from seeing Hiccup again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is literally nothing like it was supposed to be whoops. Also, sorry for it being so short >>


End file.
